Heart of A Lion
by Red Alert Man
Summary: Decades after the unification of Fódlan, Byleth reflects on her role in the war that made it possible. (Azure Moon novelization, for the most part. Rated Mature for lots of bloody violence. Also on AO3.)
1. Forward

**A/N & Disclaimer: ****Fire Emblem is the property of Nintendo and this is a nonprofit fanfiction written purely as a hobby. I do not claim canonical Fire Emblem characters and mythos as my own.**

**So I've come across some pretty good novelizations of the game that told the story routes in some unique ways. I wanted to do my own game novelization and being the massive history nerd that I am, I thought it may be interesting to retell the game's story with a more realistic take on the combat. (i.e., using actual tactics, magic being limited, and the characters not just being OP one-man armies.) Basically medieval warfare with magic mixed in. And seeing as the Blue Lions are my favorite house, I decided to go with Azure Moon, with some elements derived from Verdant Wind and Silver Snow. Being Azure Moon centric, it's NOT going to be a novelization where all three lords put aside their differences (not that I have a problem with that setup, as it is the focus of a pretty good fic called White Horizon), there will be major character deaths, and absolutely no one will come out unscathed. (Not even my precious Blue Lion house will be completely safe. . . ) **

**So in the words of Mercedes: here we go.**

* * *

**Forward**

Today is the Third of the Great Tree Moon, Imperial Year 1259, the seventieth anniversary of the Unification of Fódlan. A truly significant day, especially for the elders of Fódlan, the last living generation who were born when the continent was divided into the three realms of the Adrestian Empire, the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus, and the Leicester Alliance. They are the last generation who came out of the devastating war that engulfed the continent, destroyed the old order, and brought Fódlan together as one kingdom. As such, many instead call this this Unity Year 70 as Fódlan steadily moves away from the Imperial Year calendar that prevailed during the existence of the Adrestian Empire. Many histories have been written about the war in the decades since it ended. Its scholars have given it many names; the Great War, the Unification War, the War of the Flame Emperor, and of course the Second War of the Eagle and Lion, which remains the most popular. It never ceases to amuse me how Fódlanders can create such elaborate and long-winded names for such horrible and traumatic events. But I suppose it does not matter what they call it, those of us who survived will always remember it simply as "the war", at least until we finally die out. And how many of us are gone now.

Saint Cethleann, in her undying optimism, occasionally reminds me that it is a blessing for us to be able to preserve the true story of what happened so the people who came after it will remember for generations to come. That is true, but it often feels like it is just as much of a curse as it is a blessing. Even joyful Cethleann has a twinge of pain in her eyes when she thinks of our dear friends. I cannot pretend that life without them is not difficult at times. There are days when even the happy memories are accompanied by grief as I don't hear the laughter of my friends. There are just as many nights when I lie awake in bed and am nearly overwhelmed by soul-crushing loneliness as I don't feel the warmth of my husband. The misery I feel in those moments makes me wish things could have turned out differently, that we would not have had to make the sacrifices that we did. It makes me think of the many instances when I could have saved a life if I had been able to turn back time. As the archbishop and highest priestess, I see the long-term good of those sacrifices when mediating the political affairs of lords and the community works of parishes, but the only emotional respites I receive are the sights of children cheerfully playing in the same streets and fields that were once littered with bloody bodies. The children are the rebirth of Fódlan, the new life who did not know the war and will live to be more prosperous than my generation ever was. No other time exemplifies this spirit of rebirth than the Unification Festivals that take place annually across the kingdom from Horsebow Seventh to Tenth. It is simultaneously a time to pay respects those who died while also celebrating the era of prosperity that rose from the ashes.

Why then have I chosen to reflect on the war with this account when the memories of it are a source of heartache? When the people of Fódlan continuously memorialize it's martyrs and victims? In a sense, it comes down to authenticity. The war did not merely establish a new regime, it completely redefined the very fabric of Fódlan as we knew it from our politics, to social structure, and spirituality. As such, it has naturally become heavily romanticized over the decades, especially among younger writers who have constructed idealized mythologies. The most popular narrative of the war describes the Blue Lions leading a ragtag resistance that doggedly stood against the overwhelming might of an Adrestian army that sought to crush all of Fódlan under the heel of tyranny. This narrative is often accompanied by the persistent myth that, five years after the fall of Garreg Mach, the Blue Lions gathered in the Cathedral of Saint Seiros and swore the "Oath of the Dagger" to defeat the Adrestian Empress and unite Fódlan under a new order of "Liberty, Equality, and Fraternity". That never happened. In those days, the Blue Lions were more concerned about basic needs like food, water, and sanitation rather than poetic declarations of war that we never made, but that did not stop the Mittelfrank Opera Company from immortalizing it in their classic war drama "Three Houses". The real war was not quite as romantic. Our center of gravity for most of it was simply to wrest Faerghus from Adrestian occupation and restore its rightful monarchy, the more intricate socio-political motivations did not manifest well towards the end of the war. Even then, most of the reforms were not even concepts until years afterward.

The more controversial myths of the war revolve around the "Garreg Mach Triumvirate"; the Adrestian Empress, the King of Faerghus, and the Grand Duke of Leicester, the three heads of state that drove the war forward. While the myths surrounding the Triumvirate have some basis in fact, as a whole they wildly mischaracterize each of them as people. The myths greatly differ depending on whether the believers are of Adrestian, Faerghian, or Leicester heritage as many descendants of the three former realms have strong views of the Triumvirate. A surprising amount of Leicestermen harbor a self-shaming belief that the Grand Duke was either to consumed by personal ambition or too focused on the internal conflict of the Alliance to support the Holy Resistance Army as a strong ally. Others believe that he was just as much of an imperialist as the Adrestian Empress and only used us as convenient allies. That is all far from the truth. While the Leicester Civil War tied him down for several years, the Duke still pulled his alliance from the fire and stood as our own ally. More than that, he was my friend. Meanwhile, the most hardline Faerghan and Church idealists continue to decry the dishonored Adrestian Empress as the most heartless monster in the history of Fódlan, next to Nemesis himself. As the last Empress, she is indeed ultimately responsible for the atrocities her army committed, but she was not quite the most terrible demon of the war. She was an intelligent young woman who truly believed she was fighting for a righteous cause, but she idolized her radical idealism to the extent that she unwillingly allowed herself to be manipulated the greater evil that slithered in the dark. Conversely, staunch Adrestian apologists peddle the notion that the King of Faerghus succumbed to a near demonic possession of murderous bloodlust that made him a worse monster than the Empress. As his surviving wife, I find that particular myth to be a rather insulting exaggeration of what afflicted him. It has nonetheless served as the inspiration for countless romance stories that I have grown quite exhausted of. But of all the misconceptions of the war, the most egregious, and somewhat amusing, exaggeration claims that the wielders of the Hero's Relics were completely invincible in battle and able to singlehandedly wipe out entire battalions. The Hero's Relics were without question the most powerful weapons in Fódlan that gave very significant advantages, but they did not turn their wielders into one-man armies. If they did, the war would have been over much faster. In all fairness, most of the war's myths are constructed from events and situations that actually occurred but have been distorted with time to the point where their culmination creates a very misleading tapestry of the truth.

But I still remember it. I remember the Blue Lions, the Black Eagles, the Golden Deer, the Agarthans, and even the Ashen Wolves. My life is intimately tied to the conflict that conflated among these factions. It gave me a purpose beyond my imagination, and gave me scars that can never fully heal. I want the people of Fódlan to revel in the blessings they have now, but I also want them to understand what made it possible. I want them to know that the sacrifices made for them must never be in vain. More than that, I want the young generation of Fódlanders to realize that while cultural differences will always exist, the kingdom as a whole most be united in spiritual and military strength, or we will not survive another threat like the one we faced decades ago. And it is because of this that I recount my role in the War of the Eagle and Lion.


	2. First Blood (Part 1)

**First Blood**

I grew up as a mercenary, combat was my life. As a young woman, I had no memory of where I came from. All I knew was that I was born somewhere in the Adrestian Empire, in a year I did not know, and raised by a mercenary leader named Jeralt Reus Eisner. He was a rather somber man who gave me the name of a demon and never spoke in detail of my origins. More importantly, he trained me in the art of combat from the time I could walk. One day, as I started to grow older, he gave me a sword and a seax and allowed me to fight in his ranks. I first killed a man fighting as his soldier. A few years later, I led a platoon and a few years more I began leading a company. Living as nomadic sell-swords took us all across Fódlan for any purpose a client could offer. We defended small towns from pillaging raids, protected merchant caravans, settled disputes between lords, put down insurrections, ravaged noble houses who stepped out of line, hunted knights or royal soldiers who went rogue, and at times we were even involved in border skirmishes with the Almyrans. War was my life and I did not question it. In time, my mind became clear of any thoughts of where I came from, what year I was born, who my mother was, or even if Jeralt was actually my biological father. I did not think about the past, or what the future might bring. I was a mercenary and nothing more.

Yet even with a life of combat, I did not expect my dreams to be plagued by images of an unfamiliar war. And the day that began my journey into the War of the Eagle and Lion started with such a dream.

It was actually a recurring dream, to a degree, and it began the same way it always did; two massive armies clashing in a muddy field drenched by pouring rain. The armies were arrayed in tight formations around their banners, one side flew the banner of the Church of Seiros and their enemies flew a standard I did not recognize. The charge of the Church army was unlike anything I had ever seen in reality; a perfect en masse wedge formation with heavy cavalry in the two front ranks and infantry close behind, pegasus knights flew above them under the clouds. The sounds of running hooves, clanking armor, horse whinnies, and blood-curdling war cries created a terrible cacophony that shook the rain-soaked earth. Then the Church army crashed into the enemy lines and order instantly dissolved into muddy, fiery, blood-splattering chaos as soldiers stabbed, smashed, and skewered their foes and destructive spells were unleashed everywhere. It was a scene of all-out war covered by the darkness of storm-clouds. But when the Church army seemed to gain the initiative, the battlefield was bathed by several crimson-red lights and eleven armored figures carrying glowing weapons stepped into the fray. The dark clouds gave way to the dawn sun as the figures led their army in a mass counterattack that began to engulf the Church Army.

As the chaos of the battle escalated, one of the enemy champions stepped out from a mass of flames, armed with a burning red sword in his right hand. He was a terrifying titan of a warrior, seemingly seven feet tall, with flowing white hair and golden eyes that shined like the fire he came from. He slowly walked through the landscape of blood and corpses until he came face-to-face with a Church warrior who stood her ground against him. This warrior was a tall, green-haired woman who wore a white robe, scale armor, and a winged bronze crown. In her right hand she carried a long sword and in her left a rounded silver shield, edged with bronze, with the insignia of the Church branded in the center.

For a tense moment, woman just stared into the man the man's eyes with a piercing glare. Then she charged. With impressive strength, man raised his large sword one-handed and easily deflected the woman's charging strike. She then blocked his counter with her shield and the two engaged in a frenzied sequence of strikes and parries, moving with almost inhuman speed. The man then lunged forward and swung for her neck but the woman leapt away and backflipped to the ground on both feet. The man closed the gap in an instant and their sword dance escalated until both blades clashed in a locked stalemate. The man snarled like a beast, knocked her sword away, then drove his knee right into the woman's armored chest. She leapt back with the blow to decrease the impact. The man then flicked his wrist and his glowing sword extended into several jagged fragments, becoming like a whip. He lashed the blade-whip straight at the woman, who pivoted and allowed the tip to graze off her armor. The man continuing swinging the blade-whip until it reached its apex then he twisted it and lashed back at her. The woman ducked and somersaulted under the whiplash to avoid decapitation. As she stood up, the man lashed his blade-whip forward a third time and snared the woman's sword. And with one jerking pull, he disarmed her.

The woman quickly released her weapon as it was pulled away and dashed forward while the man's defense was open. Before he could react, she stunned him with a palm strike to the chin. Then she leapt up with one leg and drove a vicious kick into the man's chest with the other leg, knocking him down. The man dropped his sword-hilt as he hit the ground. He groaned and tried to sit up but the woman mounted him in an instant, pinned his sword-arm with one hand, and held a dagger to his throat. She brought her face down to his, her emerald eyes were pure rage.

"Tell me, Nemesis," she growled. "Do you remember recall the Red Canyon?"

He gasped in surprise. She raised the dagger.

"You took everything that I loved!"

She stabbed the dagger into his eye. He screamed.

_"You'll die for that!"_

She stabbed his neck.

_**"Die!"**_

Again.

_**"Die!"**_

Again.

_**"This is your punishment!" **_

She tore the bloodied blade from his mutilated neck. His blood gurgled in his lips and his last breath escaped in an agonized groan. The woman's breath was ragged and her whole body trembled with rage as she looked down on her dead enemy. Her white robe was splattered red from the blood that now pooled around the man's head. The woman did not even realize that the battle was over until she heard the cheers of her fellow Church soldiers who were now circled around her. The enemy was defeated and the morning sun shined bright over the field.

The woman stood up from the man's corpse and walked over to his fallen weapon was retracted back into a sword. She knelt back down, picked up the blood-soaked weapon, and cradled it in her arms, not caring about the blood that stained her softly smiling face.

"He's gone now, mother," she said.

The cheers of victory rang and everything faded to black.

* * *

That's where the dream usually ended, but something different happened this time. Instead of waking up in the real world, I opened my eyes to find myself standing in a strange stone room that bathed in an ambient emerald light. A stepped dais sat in the center of the room. On top of the dais was a tall stone throne and laying across the throne's seat, in a peaceful slumber, was a small girl. And to put it simply, she was the strangest girl I had ever seen. She wore a a golden tiara around her head and extravagant dark blue gown, accented by golden piping and tassels and braids of white and pink thread. Her most noticeable trait was a large mane of green hair that was longer than her torso and seemed thick enough to completely cover her. As if that were not uncanny enough, her ears were narrow and pointed, giving her the appearance of an elf or a fairy.

"What on Earth. . . " I muttered to myself.

Before I could say another word, the girl awoke with yawning and stretching. She perched her head on the armrest, and looked at me with curious, emerald eyes.

"Hm, I wonder how you got in here," she said to me, and I almost recoiled at her words.

She was speaking the Holy Language of Seiros. I was not a monk, I only possessed a very basic commoner's knowledge of that language, and yet somehow I perfectly understood her.

"Um, who are you and what even is this place?" I asked.

I was startled again by my own words as I had fluently spoken in the Holy Language despite thinking in common Adrestian. I could not comprehend how my words were so seamlessly translated despite the vastly different grammar structure.

"It is most rude to interrupt a moment of repose," she completely ignored my question and instead contented herself with another yawn. "Very rude indeed. But you are an interesting one."

She locked her piercing eyes with mine.

"Now come to me," she arbitrarily waved me forward. "I wish to have a look at you."

Seeing as I had nothing better to do in this uncanny dreamscape, I slowly stepped towards the throne and further into the light. I suddenly realized that I was wearing my battle armor when I heard mail clinking and glanced down.

"Hm, I have not seen the likes of you before," the girl said as she studied me with intense interest. "Who are you anyway?"

"A ghost from Hell," I said with a completely straight face.

She just gave me a bemused scowl. "You would do well to keep your wit in line, girl."

_'You're calling_ me _girl_? _That's rich.'_ "Fine, I'm just a mortal human. My name is Byleth Sitri Eisner."

"Huh. I shall not ever grow accustomed to the sound of human names," she smirked. "You must possess a date of birth as well?"

"Horsebow Twenty," I answered with comparatively less amusement.

I was struggling to wrap my mind around the prospect that I was speaking to an elf-like girl, in the Holy Language, in a surreal dreamscape. A girl was so inexplicably interested in me no less. I did not remember eating any bad mushrooms before bed.

"Wow, wonders never cease!" she said with genuine surprise. "It seems we share our day of birth, how strange!"

The girl quickly mellowed from her momentary excitement and reclined back in the throne as if deep in thought.

"Hmm. It all feels so. . . familiar. I think it may be time for. . . yet another nap."

She yawned yet again and dozed off without another word.

Then everything faded to black once again.

* * *

"Wake up, kid, we have a situation."

A hand shook me awake and I turned my head up from my pillow to see Jeralt crouching over my bed.

I groaned in response while rubbing the matter out of my eyes. "Damn. . . what's going on?"

A quick glance at the window above my bed told me that it was still dark. The only light in the room came from the candle that burned on a small table in the corner near my bed.

"Some nobles just ran into the village, they say they have a pissed off bandit party hot on their trail from the north," he explained as he stood up, already clad in his full mail and plate armor. "The scout team is is on lookout across the bridge, I need you to call the rest of the battalion to assembly."

"Understood."

I managed to remove my weary body from the comfort of my bedsheets and stumbled to my equipment chest at the foot.

"Having that dream again?" Jeralt asked with concern.

"Yeah."

I flipped open my chest, still in a haze of nausea and exhaustion that I alway experienced after that dream came to me. I did not tell him that the dream had been different this time. If he was ordering a full battalion assembly then it was not an appropriate time to explain it.

"Well, hopefully a fight will clear your head," he said. "I'm going to inform the village elders, get the battalion moving."

He quickly exited my room without another word.

"Yeah, yeah, I'll be right out," I lethargically called back as he left.

I quickly stripped off my night gown and got properly dressed. I pulled my long raven hair back and tied it in a Faerghian warrior's knot. I stepped into my breeches, looped my scabbard belt, and put on my undershirt and gambeson. I laced my boots and clasped my greaves over them, then I pulled on my haubergeon, put my brigandine over it, and clasped my pauldrons, rerebraces, and gauntlets. Finally, I slung my shield over my back and grabbed my helmet before bolting out of the tavern. Strange dreams may be exhausting but battle waits for no warrior.

This village, called Remire, was nestled in a river valley in the heart of the Oghma Mountains, northern Adrestia, near the border of Faerghus. We had been using the village as our headquarters for the past three weeks as we refitted equipment, requisitioned supplies, and trained for our coming mission in southern Faerghus. There was little over a hundred of us, swords for hire who officially solicited ourselves simply as Jeralt's Mercenaries. Jeralt was never one for bold titles. To him, this profession was all business, but his reputation as the former Grandmaster of the Knights of Seiros nevertheless earned him the folk title of Sir Jeralt the Blade Breaker. Naturally, his mercenaries were also called the Blade Breakers in colloquialism.

We spent most of our days intricately practicing combatives and battle drills, refreshing our ability to fight as individuals and cohesively function as a unit. We each memorized our roles in the battalion, rehearsed every possible contingency, and when we weren't training we were helping the villagers in their day-to-day labor. Jeralt made it a policy to always give back to the communities that hosted us so our presence would not be a burden. The village priest, Father Timothée, was a veteran of the Central Church Army who respected our discipline and professionalism that was not always standard for sell-swords, and for that he and his parish clergymen assisted us in any way they could.

Once outside the tavern in the pre-dawn darkness, I got to work calling up the battalion, quickly moving through the stables and townhouses on the northern edge of the village where the soldiers slept. I roused each of the subordinate leaders and simply told them, "Assemble". That was all they needed to hear to spring their men into action. While the subordinate leaders handled the soldier accountability at the stables, Jeralt met with Father Timothée and the village elders in front of the church to discussed the situation. As I approached, I noticed three individuals standing with Jeralt who I did not recognize, two young men and one young woman. I easily identified them as the nobles Jeralt spoke of; they wore black gambesons highlighted by gold facings. Each of them also wore a different colored shoulder cape on their left sides, one blue, one red, and one yellow. I took note that they were also armed. The young man with blonde hair and the blue shoulder cape carried a spear. The other young man, who had dark hair, tan skin, and the yellow cape, held a bow in one hand and had a quiver slung on his shoulder. The young woman was the shortest of the three with pale skin that nearly matched her snow-white hair. She wore the red cape and carried an axe that seemed too big for her. As I approached, the blonde spear-wielder was the first to notice my presence and stepped away from the group to greet me.

"Greetings, ma'am, are you Sir Jeralt's lieutenant?" he spoke to me in the noble Adrestian dialect, though I faintly detected the distinct inflections of a northern Faerghian accent.

"In a sense," I simply replied as I examined him and his friends on his left who also approached me, Jeralt himself was still talking to the elders. "And who might you three be?"

"Ah, pardon my lack of manners, I am Dimitri. My companions are Edelgard," he gestured to the red-caped girl, "and Claude," the yellow-caped boy next to her.

"Pleased to meet you, my name is Byleth," I nodded to them.

"Charmed," Claude smiled.

"The pleasure is ours," Edelgard nodded back.

"I assume you are the ones with the bandits chasing you?"

"Unfortunately," said Edelgard. "They attacked us while were dismantling our camp. They chased us all the way to this village from that direction." She pointed past the church to the north side of the village.

"We've been separated from our other companions and we're outnumbered," said Claude. "They're after our lives, not to mention our gold."

"How many are we facing?" I asked.

"I would wager a few drove at least," Dimitri shrugged.

"But we didn't exactly have time to count," Claude quipped.

I couldn't help but feel suspicious. Not only was this an odd situation, but their names were also very familiar. All three were fairly common names, but each was also attributed to a very specific person. But in such a remote region as this, I did not think these nobles could possibly be who I was thinking of. "So, the three of you were just out camping, then you rose before dawn only to be attacked by a small army of bandits? And all in enough time to don those uniforms? What makes you three special targets?"

"I-we are not, but. . . " Dimitri stammered.

Claude simply stood still with his arms crossed, seemingly amused by his companion's embarrassment under my scrutiny. Though his calm demeanor suggested that he was seriously analyzing the situation. Edelgard, on the other hand, became notably more agitated.

"We were not taking a leisure holiday, we–"

Shut was abruptly cut off mid-sentence by Jeralt, who stepped right past her to address me in common Adrestian. "The villagers are going to take shelter in the church, Father Timothée and the monks will provide white magic support for the company." He gestured to the clergymen who followed right behind.

Edelgard, for her part, stepped back with a look of astonishment at suddenly being interrupted to brazenly.

"At your orders, Lady Byleth," Father Timothée smiled at me.

"Much obliged, Father," I smiled back in mock annoyance of the honorary title he always addressed me with, in spite of my lack of knighthood or nobility.

"The girl just told me the bandits are approaching from the north," I told Jeralt. "I assume you want the company to line on the bridge?"

"Yes, we should funnel them through a choke point for as long as possible, the priority is stopping them from entering the village. I'll take the troop to the ford and pinwheel on their left flank."

"You're going to be a little alone out there without us, Jeralt," I dryly remarked.

"If they're focused on you they won't be prepared for us."

"But they might have lurking horsemen of their own."

"That's a risk I'm willing to take. The bandits will keep attacking if we just hold them off, we need to completely scatter them with a pincer move and there's no other way across that river besides the bridge. If they've been chasing the kids this whole time it's safe to assume they don't know about the ford."

Right as Jeralt finished his sentence, our attention was drawn to a bright red firework that streaked upwards and exploded in the sky on the north side of the village; the signal from our scouts that a hostile war party was in sight.

"Alright, we don't have any more time," Jeralt said to me as he untied his great helm from his belt and put it on his head, leaving the visor up. "Get the company to the bridge."

He then dashed to the stables, leaving Father Timothée and I with the young nobles.

"You three should join the rest of the villagers in the church," I said to them. "I'll check on you when it's over."

With that, I put on my own helmet and turned away to rally my platoon leaders, not intending to speak to the young nobles any further. Instead, they responded with a request I was not expecting.

"We want to fight with you," said Dimitri.

"What?" I turned my head to him in disbelief.

"We lead the bandits here, let us help you fight them."

"He's right," said Edelgard. "While we are in need of your aid, it would be dishonorable of us to cower away from the fight."

"And besides, we're all trained in combat," Claude held up his bow. "No need to reject extra hands."

I was not comfortable with that idea. Even with weapons and training, the trio were still children and obviously important. If they fought in my company, their deaths or wounds would be on my head. But seeing the resolve in their eyes told me I would not be able to convince them with words and there was no time left to argue. I shot a glance at Father Timothée silently asking for his support to talk them down. He simply shrugged.

"It's your prerogative," he said. "But they do seem eager to assist."

"Fine," I conceded. "But you'll need more armor than that. And you'll stay where I know you are and you will obey the commands of my officers and I at all times."

"Understood," Dimitri nodded.

Edelgard and Claude voiced no objections and the trio followed me to the join the infantry company.

"If I may inquire, Miss Byleth, you seemed to object to Sir Jeralt's order of a flanking maneuver," Dimitri spoke to me as we walked.

"I don't exactly object, but I am concerned that he is taking too much of a risk leading our cavalry troop all the way around the river ford where they could become isolated with no infantry support."

"Is that not a prudent risk to accept if the maneuver can ensnare the bandits?" Edelgard asked.

"It may be too great a risk considering that the ford is three miles to the east and the cavalry troop is only forty-five men strong."

Neither Dimitri or Edelgard had a response to that.

"And I always thought the bards were exaggerating when they sang of the fearless Jeralt the Blade Breaker," said Claude.

"Only slightly," I said.

Without another any further discussion, the trio eagerly followed me as I joined the infantry company at their assembly area by the village stables. I sent the young nobles to the battalion quartermaster, Erich, hoping he would be able to fit them with any of the extra helmets, mail, and brigandines he had in our limited supply stores. I simultaneously called the four platoon leaders and gave them a quick briefing of our situation.

"Is he _quite_ sure about that maneuver?" asked Devon, third platoon leader.

"He's sure, his intent is to completely route the bandits in panic," I said.

"That does make sense," said Pierre, second platoon leader, "If the troop can cross the ford undetected their charge will certainly bring shock and awe even with forty-five horses."

"And the effect will be more devastating on the enemy the more we can whittle down their numbers," said Nicholas, the archer platoon leader.

"Yes, but we'll have to keep their attention focused solely on us," I said. "And the bridge is the perfect place to do it. We'll challenge them the old fashion way with our shield-wall in the middle to create a choke point. Nicholas will split the archers into two sections on the parapets so any attacking elements will be caught in a crossfire."

"We can also use harassing shots to goad them into charging," Nicholas added.

"That will work perfectly, but don't unleash volleys until they charge, even if they pass the ranging stakes. Any objections, gentlemen?"

None of them voiced any further concern.

"Do you have anything to add, Ivar?" I asked the stony-faced leader of first platoon.

"No, ma'am," he said.

"Right then, get the platoons to the bridge, standard marching order."

The platoon leaders dispersed and led their men out by platoon; first, second, third, and archers. The clergymen followed behind first platoon where they would be able to quickly aid the soldiers in the battle. I sent Claude with Nicholas' archers, given that he carried a bow and arrow bag himself. As company leader, I marched with Ivar's first platoon, strictly ordering Dimitri and Edelgard to stay right behind me. The company standard-bearer marched right behind the front rank of first platoon, carrying our battalion's black banner of the three-leafed white lotus, Jeralt's personal signet.

The heavy cavalry troop mounted up as the company formed and simultaneously departed from the stables, passing by first platoon on our right. They projected an image of force mounted on their mares, all clad in plate armor, full-body hauberks, or both. The troop leader, Erwin, rode next to Jeralt at the front of the column, carrying the swallow-tailed troop standard. Jeralt himself projected an imposing command presence astride his large mare, Eva. He and I briefly locked eyes and he gave me a nod before turning Eva right and spurring her into a steady gallop. The other riders followed him closely as they skirted towards the riverbank and they soon faded from view in the pre-dawn darkness.

They were all formidable warriors, but I still could not help but be slightly concerned. They were only a platoon-sized troop of horsemen executing a wide flanking maneuver that would ideally require the numbers of one or more full-sized, hundred-men troops. Officially, Jeralt's Mercenaries were a battalion, but at the time we were really just one infantry company and one cavalry troop, and even those echelon designations were generous.

As a former knight, Jeralt was a natural horseman and typically preferred to lead the cavalry troop into battle. I myself had no talent with horses, thus I typically acted as the commander of the understrength infantry company, Ivar's platoon was twenty-five men, Pierre's platoon was thirty-one, Devon's platoon was twenty-one, and Nicholas' archer platoon was twelve. An additional four-man scout team made for ninety-three men in total. Quartermaster Erich also had eight young orderly boys under his wing who only fought under extreme circumstances. For this engagement, Father Timothée and his four monks brought our effective combat strength to ninety-eight, not including Erich's orderlies. The cavalry troop was forty-five, counting Jeralt himself.

Needless to say, our battalion had seen better days. We had not experienced a particularly high combat attrition rate recently, but months of inactivity had decimated our ranks through expiring contracts, training injuries, and illnesses. But despite our reduced numbers I was not particularly worried about the company's objective to hold the village bridge. Even with the prospect of being outnumbered, the bridge was the perfect choke point to attrit a hostile war party, especially undisciplined bandits.

I was far more worried about Jeralt and the troop being cut off or ambushed with no chance of infantry support from us. Singers and poets often romanticize heavy cavalry as though they are the indomitable force of war, but that is only true in open-field battles. They are undeniably terrifying to behold when they charge in mass formation with lances down, but their true strength is their mobility which allows them to strike hard and swiftly then tactically withdraw to strike again. They are not meant to fight grueling, static battles of attrition in close quarters like infantry as they simply become easy targets for spears and arrows. As such, a troop that is surrounded is often in danger of imminent slaughter, even when the enemy is all infantry. Granted, bandits are far less trained and disciplined than soldiers and much easier to control, but it was still a gamble. I did not distrust Jeralt's judgement, but I could only accept it on the basis that it was him leading the horsemen and no one else. I was not particularly devout at the time, but I still whispered a prayer for them.

I put such thoughts out of my head as soon as my men reached the bridge. It was time to focus on our own mission. The platoon leaders immediately moved their men to fighting positions based on our order of march without need for my orders. Dimitri, Edelgard, and I marched with first platoon as Ivar halted them in the bridge center. The bridge was wide enough for nearly half of Ivar's platoon to form abreast. I stood shoulder to shoulder with Ivar in the center of the front rank, covering his right side with my kite shield. I was ironically the only soldier in the front rank not carrying a spear, choosing instead to fight with my seax in this compact shield-wall. Pierre and Devon waited close behind so they could quickly reinforce Ivar with their own men and even rotate platoon positions entirely if needed.

The bridge was flanked by earthen breastworks that we had fortified with small palisades and fire-steps, perfect for the archer platoon. Nicholas thus split his archers into two sections that flanked both sides of the bridge. Nicholas himself went with the section on the left flank, Claude right next to him. The archers then stood their quivers upright on the ground, where they could easily draw arrows, and lit torches where they stood to give visibility as there was no longer any moonlight, though we could only see as far as the tree-line half a mile forward. There was no point in concealing our position in the darkness when our entire objective was to focus the bandit party's attention on us.

The scout team soon emerged from the shadows of the trees. The lead scout, Marcel, hailed Ivar and I with the security phrase and informed us that we faced at least a double drove of "armed and very pissed off freebooters" who could already be heard raucously approaching in the distance. All four scouts requested permission to fight in the front, but they had been patrolling village outskirts from their distant camp the entire night so I sent them to the rear with the security detail at supply wagons to rest and refit. There was little to do at this point besides wait for the enemy, whose shouts and footsteps grew steadily louder, so my soldiers simply conducted their final equipment checks with each other. The lull before a battle is boredom punctuated by anticipation that always makes the wait feel longer than it really is.

I glanced over my right shoulder at Dimitri and Edelgard who stood close to me in the second rank. Both of them were now wore helmets, mail, and brigandines like the rest of us, though Edelgard's haubergeon was noticeably large on her. For the time being, stared silently into the black of the trees even while men around her idly chatted and the sounds of the approaching enemy grew louder still.

"Ever experienced combat before?" I asked.

"Not properly," said Edelgard. "Though Dimitri is no stranger to violence." She smirked at him.

"No less than you," Dimitri dryly replied without even looking at her.

The somewhat awkward demeanor he had displayed earlier was now completely gone and replaced with cold stoicism. He simply gazed forward with unmoving, icy blue eyes.

"Spears front!" Ivar shouted.

The enemy arrived. A mob of ragtag men came running out of the tree-line, so raucous they barely seemed to notice our presence until they came close to the bridge. The bandits in front slowed to a halt as they realized they now faced armed resistance and the whole mob devolved into a confused gaggle, clearly perplexed to be facing any resistance at all. My men, for their part, silenced their murmurings and held their weapons ready as we initiated the battle of wills that plays out before every engagement. I scanned the enemy party in front of me to the best of our visibility, it was difficult to guess their numbers without seeing any war banners but I judged that they easily numbered in the hundreds. Their weapons varied by man; swords, battle axes, war hammers, and an assortment of pole arms. Unsurprisingly, few carried shields, or wore any kind of armor, and there were no archers or crossbowmen. Assuming they did not have mages, would not be difficult to stack their bodies.

The bandits continued milling about until one large man carrying a two-handed battle axe stepped to the foot of the bridge and pompously demanded we let them pass. No one responded, much to his agitation. Vexed by our silence, the whole mob began spewing threats and insults, but not one of my men shouted back. When insults did not provoke any reactions, several individual bandits approached the bridge and called challenges for single combat against anyone with the balls to face them. They spat yet more torrents of insults and vulgarities when no one broke formation to fight them. They very colorfully articulated how weak and yellow-bellied we were and what they would do to our mothers and lovers when they were done us. But they were only wasting their breath. Our silence was a deliberate part of the battle of wills, our standard response to provocation. I glanced at the young nobles again to pleasantly see that they also betrayed no sign of intimidation.

Intimidation is the primary weapon of all bandits. They are predominately little more than armed thugs who, more often than not, lack the skill to best a trained soldier in single combat; but they are dangerous in numbers and use that show of force to break their victims of the will to resist. It is just a smokescreen that most soldiers can see through and render ineffective simply by not reacting. What the bandits were doing was actually sensible in a way, any thinking man can tell that rushing headlong into a armed chokepoint is tantamount to suicide. They wanted us to expose ourselves in the open and tried to goad us into attacking, but one of the most imperative characteristics of defense to make the enemy fight on your terms, and so our two sides played mind games. The Blade Breakers played this mind game with nearly every bandit party we fought and the bandits always broke first because they are driven by little more than mob mentality and thirst for gold, which eventually intoxicates them to madly rush to their deaths. They fall into our trap the moment groupthink overrides sense and they unwittingly force themselves to fight on our terms.

The one-sided psychological contest continued for what seemed like an eternity, the ruckus of the bandits gradually growing into an enraged roar, until our enemies finally succumbed to mob mentality and the frontmost bandits charged.

_**"Brace!"**_ Ivar and I simultaneously yelled.

I flipped down my visor. The Blade Breakers in the front rank leveled their weapons. Each rear man pressed his shield into the back of the man in front of him. The bandits thundered to the bridge, past our arrow ranging stakes. And ran straight into a volley of arrows. Their war cries became death screams as the shot bandits tumbled into the ground and the men behind them tripped over them and created a pile of bleeding, writhing bodies. The deadly arrows did not relent as the archers fired at will, drawing arrows as soon as they loosed them. The effect was a hailstorm of missiles. Dozens of bandits were already dead before they were even on the bridge, those who still clung to life were trampled by their own comrades who slipped through the arrows and dashed onto the bridge. The bandits who made it screamed bloody murder, closed the distance. Only to be met by our raised spears.

Several bandits skewered themselves in their rush. Many more were trapped by their own crowding comrades while desperately trying to claw through our deadly spears, those who managed to slip past were immediately stabbed by the men behind the first rank. The bandit leader who had issued the initial threat managed to knock aside Ivar's spear and hook his shield with the beard of his axe. I quickly leaned to my left and stabbed my seax into the bandit's neck and he collapsed gurgling his own blood. A sword-bandit saw my opening and lunged in for the blow, but was killed by a spear to the chest. I immediately knew that Dimitri had done the deed as he was standing right behind me with his shield in my back. Another sword-bandit lunged at me with a clumsy overhead swing. The mercenary to my right blocked high, throwing the bandit off balance, then I stabbed him in the abdomen and ripped my blade up and out. He howled as his entrails spilled out. His legs gave out but he could not fall backward thanks to the tide of men that was pushing their own into our weapons. A few of our mercenaries fell and were immediately dragged back through the lines. The men standing directly behind them stepped in their place and continued the killing.

Most of our enemies were merely rushing to their deaths at this point, their corpses stacked in a nearly waist-high pile in front of our shield-wall, most bandits who tried to climb over the body pile were killed as soon as they exposed themselves. I killed one such bandit with a vicious hack through the clavicle and another with a straight stab in the nose bridge. They died easily thanks to their lack of armor. Even those who wore sturdy gambesons and leather corselets could not last long against the onslaught. I could see the fear in many faces realizing that their frontal attack was suicide, but they could not move in any direction but forward thanks to the human stampede that packed the bridge and pushed them into the meat grinder. The slaughter raged until the bandit crowd finally melted away in near panic, leaving their dead and dying comrades behind. The archer sections released another volley as soon as the bandits cleared the bridge, dropping yet more bodies.

Ivar's platoon had soundly beaten back the first enemy attack. The survivors pathetically licked their wounds in the safety of numbers while the bandits who did not charge simply stared in shock, but Ivar and I had fought against enough bandit hordes to know they would not stay idle for long. Bandits are highly susceptible to volatile groupthink.

I quickly sheathed by seax, flipped up my visor, and shouted to Ivar, "Call it!" By Ivar's command, first platoon made a hasty tactical withdraw from the bridge while our enemies were too stunned to retaliate. As soon as first platoon cleared the kill-zone, second platoon advanced to take our place.

"Second platoon, forward!" Pierre bellowed and his men ran into the bridge in formation.

Now that Ivar and I had an opportunity to catch our breath in the security of our line, I assisted him in taking accountability of his men. We lost three dead and four wounded, reducing first platoon from twenty-five to nineteen. A monk stabilized the three who were most critically wounded with _Heal_ spells, the fourth man was restored to able-bodied strength. A few of our men wrapped the dead in linen, we would bury them when the battle was over.

First platoon then sat down together in a rest formation beside third platoon, who were also resting right behind the bridge but were prepared to mobilize as soon as the chokepoint was open. Ivar's men took the opportunity to refit in this improvised assembly area of ours. Erich was right behind us with the supply stores, furiously setting aside arrow bags for the archers. The eight orderly boys worked like busy bees rushing the arrow bags to the palisades, clutching two in each arm. The archers relaxed their fire now that the hostile charge had been repulsed, but still maintained an overwatch, shooting any bold bandits that wandered too close to the bridge or riverbank. Claude stood next to Edward in the left-flank section and I saw him straight-shoot a man right in the head. Claude was not a particularly large man, and I was impressed by the strength he possessed to draw his longbow far enough to make such a shot.

After supplying the archer sections with more ammunition, the orderly boys abruptly switched their full attention to first platoon and began rushing us water skins and food rations. Everyone gladly took advantage of their break to eat and hydrate. Fatigue was finally setting in as the battle high wore off, I myself finally became aware of the sweat film on my face when I took off my helmet. I sat down next to Dimitri and Edelgard to check up on them. Dimitri was casually chewing on a ration while wiping the blood off his spear-blade while Edelgard was chugging down her water skin. I noticed her axe was bloodied and her brigandine was cut over the right shoulder. I had initially not wanted these young nobles to fight at all, yet still brought them close anyway and here they were cutting their teeth with the rest of my seasoned mercenaries.

"How are your two holding up?" I asked.

Edelgard gasped for air after chugging multiple gulps of water and put down her skin.

"That wave retreated faster than I expected," she said.

"Hotheaded bandits tend to lose their mettle after a good bloodletting," I said. "But they're far from finished, they'll psych themselves up and charge again."

"Then I don't imagine it will be particularly difficult to kill more," Dimitri remarked as he wiped the last streak of blood from his spearhead.

I took a spare cleaning cloth from Edelgard and began wiping blood off of my seax, shield, and helmet visor. I was so focused on that momentary task that I did not think to take any water or food for myself until an orderly named Tancred shoved some in my arms and sternly said, "Eat." I then realized I was just as hungry and thirsty as the rest of the men, none of us had eaten breakfast, and started wolfing down the rations.

Then some of the bandits found their spines again. Another group gathered in front of the bridge, much smaller than the first group. They made the second charged and Pierre's platoon stood firm in phalanx to meet them. I ran over to the palisade and observed as the bandits let out a howling battlecry, more to motivate themselves than to intimidate second platoon, and rushed to meet their deaths. The second wave was repulsed even faster than the first, a dozen of them fell from an arrow volley and the rest were quickly decimated by Pierre's platoon while trying to scramble over the pile of bodies in vain. A wounded bandit was tossed over the side of the bridge. He tried to swim but succumbed to blood loss and the archers watching on the palisade laughed as he panicked and drowned. The second wave was all but wiped out by the time the survivors limped away from the bridge and were felled by another volley.

"How may drinks are you willing to bet we'll send these piss-lickers running before Jeralt gets here?" Nicholas asked me.

"Not even one mead," I said.

"Are you sure, ma'am? At this rate my platoon alone will have them beat before the horse boys get some."

He had a point. By now the corpse stack in front of second platoon had reached neck level. The men thus began clearing away the bodies while they had an opportunity to avert a potential avalanche that could break their formation. They had to have hefted well over two dozen corpses over the sides of the bridge and their blood filled the water as they floated on the surface. The color was illuminated by our torches to create a sickly shade of blackish-red, more visible thanks to the pre-dawn grey that filled the sky. I could not clearly make out the expressions of the many distant bandits who had yet to fight, but the silence that engulfed them plainly indicated their horror at the grim sight. No trace of rowdiness left.

Second platoon reformed phalanx in short order anticipating another charge that did not come. The enemy party still clearly outnumbered us, but the decimation of the first two waves demonstrated to the unbloodied bandits exactly what would happen if they tried to attack the bridge. Still they didn't retreat, they were stuck between wanting our blood and not wanting to die, right where we wanted them to be. Jeralt's Mercenaries were firmly in control of the battle tempo. Then the heavy cavalry arrived.

The woods in front of the bridge curved to the east, our right, and made an excellent concealment for their approach. The infantry company, for our part, had focused the bandit's attention on us so well that few of them seemed to initially notice Jeralt's horses cantering out of the treeline. They definitely noticed when the standard-bearer blasted the trumpet signal to form wedge. Within moments, the troop positioned themselves as such with the imposing form of Jeralt leading from the apex.

"I stand corrected," said Nicholas.

Across the river, some of the bandits attempted to arrange themselves into something that vaguely resembled a defense formation, if one were to squint, but it was far too late. The standard-bearer blasted the trumpet again and the horsemen spurred into full gallop, lances down, and smashed into the mob of bandits. The effect was every cavalrymen's dream. Jeralt's wedge broke through the crowd like a splitting tide. They sent the enemy into complete pandemonium as they speared any bandit in their way. Many others they didn't kill with their lances were trampled under hooves. The psychological shock of a surprise heavy cavalry charge struck the outnumbering bandits with such terror that most of them ran in any direction to save themselves. This only caused many of them to bunch up and fall over each other, and there was more death. And the cavalrymen still relentlessly carved their way right through the whole mob. I saw some of them drop broken lances and draw their swords, axes, or hammers to keep hacking as they still charged, leaving our enemies scattered in their wake.

The infantry company let out a loud cheer at the sight. Now that the enemy was shattered, I knew that we had to exploit the initiative before the bandits had any chance to recover. I ordered my standard-bearer to blast the signal for company advance. All platoons immediately reacted. Pierre's platoon rushed forward from the bridge, Devon's platoon followed close behind, and Ivar's platoon scrambled to their feet and brought up the rear. The archers left their positions on the palisades and brought of the rear along with the monks. Claude naturally fell in with the archer platoon next to Nicholas, but I quickly ran to him and ordered him to stay behind with Erich and the orderlies. He was surprised by the order and just stared at me for a moment.

"Stay here!" I yelled.

He then reluctantly fell out of the platoon.

I then ran to the front rank of Ivar's platoon as they were following Devon's platoon onto the bridge.

"Go to back to the supply stores and stay there!" I shouted at Dimitri and Edelgard as we moved.

"_What?" _Edelgard exclaimed.

"Miss Byleth-" Dimitri started to protest but I cut him off.

"No arguing! Go!"

Both of them were plainly disgruntled by my stern order, especially Edelgard, but Dimitri switched his spear to his left hand and pulled her off to the side so the rest of the platoon could pass them by. Ivar noticed the exchange but did not say anything, he understood my reason for sending them back. We were no longer fighting a defensive battle in a chokepoint where we held every advantage, now we were pressing an assault that greatly increased their chances of death or wounds and I still did not want that blood on my head.

The company fanned out in our offensive formation as soon as we cleared the bridge. Pierre's leading platoon stayed center while Devon swung his platoon to the right side and Ivar to the left while the archer sections hung back on the wings. This created a mobile phalanx with the entire company abreast. We had rehearsed this exact formation so many times that executing it was second nature. I had my sword drawn for this one.

The bandits were too disorganized to react and we broke straight through them, spears forward, cutting down every enemy in our path and trampling over the bodies of the wounded. The fractured gaggle that remained in front of us wildly ran for cover in the treeline, still ravaged by our horsemen who relentlessly rode down every bandit they could possibly kill. They broke off their pursuit as the infantry chased the bandits right into the woods. I then ordered the company standard bearer to blast the call for a static shield-wall. I stepped back from the company as the straightened the line and the archers formed a new firing line in the rear. Father Timothée and the monks were among them. Meanwhile, the cavalrymen were reigning their mares in to regroup behind the infantry company. Jeralt trotted his own mare around the archers to find me at the rear of the company. We both raised our visors to identify each other and he slung his lance into the holder on Eva's flank.

"Nicely done, kid," he said

"Should we pursue or hold here?" I asked.

"Pursue. We've definitely scared the Hell out of them, but they're likely to try to rally in the woods or the clearing beyond," Eva twitched and whinnied with excitement from the shouts and battle cries that still filled the air, Jeralt patted her neck to calm her down. "Easy, girl. Keep the company together and push the bandits into the clearing as much as you can. I don't imagine that they have much nerve left to resist."

"And the troop will circle around through the path?"

"Correct, and when we charge them again. Until then, exploit their disarray with extreme prejudice."

That was Jeralt's more articulate way of saying 'go kill as many as possible.'

"Understood."

"Keep 'em bleeding. Heeyah!" And with that simple instruction Jeralt spurred his mare back to the rest of the heavy cavalry.

I immediately relayed the order to the standard-bearer who blasted the signal to advanced, and the infantry company steadily pushed into the treeline. Meanwhile, the cavalry troop reformed around their own standard and swung around our rear towards the open wood path that was further to our left. They rode like a truly effective cavalry unit, gone just as quickly as they had arrived to strike again at just the right moment.

But my company still needed to drive the enemy out of the woods; the undignified business of infantrymen. Our shield-wall naturally unraveled as we pushed into the trees and brush. I quickly lost track of my platoon leaders and even my standard-bearer in the chaos. With no feasible way to issue orders, I could only fight the men immediately around me. Multiple groups of bandits that remained rediscovered their spines and engaged the mercenaries in a dozen small fights in the thick of the woods. Order was effectively gone, but the bandits had little chance of turning the tide now.

One bandit group attempted to charge the gaggle of Blade Breakers I stood with. Two of them broke into the staggered shield wall only to be dragged to the ground and butchered by the men behind the first rank. They squealed like pigs. A bandit armed with a bill lunged at me as I raised my shield and he hooked the rim. I pivoted with the blow, throwing him off balance, and shield-bashed him into the tree on my right side then killed him with a sword thrust to the chest. Another bandit, profusely bleeding from the head, struggled to his feet to see his comrades dying. He let out a cry of rage and raised his spear. Then a monk pushed past me, stretched his connected palms out, and created a _Nosferatu_ glyph. A bright aura flashed around the bandit and his whole body shriveled and collapsed, drained of all blood. The monk then stepped back behind our shields and put his glowing hands together in a prayer sign, converting the defused blood into mana that could heal a wounded mercenary when needed.

_**"Push forward! Push forward!"**_ I hollered to however many Blade Breakers could hear me over the din of primal screams and clanging metal.

Just as I shouted, I led my small group forward through the brush and continued brawling with the disorganized hostiles. As my men charged through a larger bandit gaggle, another group of Blade Breakers appeared at our right and attack our enemies. I turned my head just in time to see an axe-bandit chop a mercenary in the side of the head. The mercenary's helmet flew right off her head and her long white hair fell down.

I actually stopped in my tracks, dumbfounded to see the noble girl Edelgard in the thick of the combat. Exactly where I ordered her not to be. Her attacker tried to finisher her with another blow to her now unprotected head. She barely raised her shield in time to block the axe but was still knocked back several steps from the force. As she stumbled, the bandit saw the opening, raised his axe, and lunged.

In an instant I bolted to Edelgard and tackled her. I felt the axe hit my back, then felt an unfamiliar pulse. Then the world was engulfed by a dark aura. And time itself froze.

* * *

**So, this is the first real chapter. I had originally intended for the game's whole prologue stage and cutscenes to constitute the first chapter, but the draft was way too long, so I decided to break it up. This chapter is still longer than I intended it to be, but I don't feel like wasting what I've already but a lot of time into writing. The next chapter will wrap up the battle fairly short length then we can get to the proper introductions and get things moving.**

**First Blood part 2 is on it's way, peace out.**


	3. First Blood (Part 2)

**First Blood (Part 2)**

"Honestly! What are you accomplishing with that little stunt?!" a girl's voice exclaimed.

I blinked.

"It's like you're _trying_ to get me killed, you fool!" she said.

_'You again,'_ I inwardly groaned.

I stood straight up from the stance I had been frozen in and saw that I was back in the dreamscape throne room, locking eyes with the green-haired elf girl who sat leaning on the armrest. She just looked at me as though I were a misfit child in need of scolding and sighed as her expression changed to that of an exasperated mother.

"Well, it's fine," she said. "After all, if you don't know the value of your own life, you aren't going to protect it very well, are you?"

I couldn't help but snort as I removed my metaphysical helmet. How I was still 'wearing' my armor I have no clue.

"Well then, maybe I'm just too foolhardy to be protecting any young nobles," I said sarcastically.

The girl rolled her eyes. "Of course."

Then she levitated off the throne seat and clapped her hands with a wide smile.

"Then I guess it's up to me to guide you from now on, right?"

I paused for a moment. ". . . huh? Guide me? I don't even know who you are, what you are, or how you're seemingly inside my head."

"Hm, I suppose I didn't give my name," she put her hand to her chin in thought. "My name is. . . Sothis. Yes, that is it, you may call me Sothis. But I am also called. . . The Beginning."

She dramatically smiled at me with those words, as if I knew what she was talking about, then she looked down in confusion.

"But who once called me that?" she said to herself.

"What in the name of Nemesis are you talking about?"

I was already sick of this surreal experience, especially when there was still a battle in the real world, a noble nearly died on my watch, and I my body was frozen in time with an axe blade at a vulnerable place. Even with full armor, an axe blow is never trifle.

"I was not able to recall my name. . . until just now," this 'Sothis' said. "And just as I spoke to you, it came to me. How odd. That look upon your face. . . did you think me a _child_? A mere child who forgot her own name?!"

I would just like to point out that I did not have a reputation for becoming easily frustrated with children. Ordinary children at least. But given the very extraneous circumstances, and this imp girl's attitude, I will confidently say that my response was not completely unwarranted.

"For all I know, you may as well be kind of demonic spirit that's trying to possess me! And yes, in case you aren't aware, you have the appearance and demeanor of a little child."

"Phooey!" she shouted, or something to that effect, onomatopoeia doesn't really translate from the Holy Language. "This 'child' just save your life! And what does that make you?"

"I'm the woman who's gonna take you with me if I die,' I deadpanned.

"_You're the one who threw yourself before an axe to save one young girl!"_

"You would have preferred if I had just let her die?"

"You could have at least _not _exposed your most vulnerable side! Had I not stalled the flow of time you would surely be dead! Why can you not grateful to me for saving you?! But it does not even matter," her expression changed from furious to somber, "when time begins again you will surely be killed, gravely wounded at least!"

She let out an exhausted sigh. "How rude of you to drag me into this. . . "

Something about her tone, combined with the unbelievable situation, caused my last nerves to snap.

"Excuse me?" I said incredulously, "_I _dragged you into this?! You're inside _my consciousness_! You're in danger with me because you just let yourself in here like I'm your _**damned toy!**_ So unless you want to die with me, I suggest you stop whining like a _damn child_ and use whatever twisted magic you just used to _**get us the Hell out of this damn situation!**_"

I didn't actually say 'damn' but the word I tried to say doesn't exist in the Holy Language. The girl on the other hand flinched at my tongue-lashing, her face beet-red, looking at me as though I just slapped her.

"I-I. . . do not know what to do," she spoke softly and turned her face away. "I do not understand my own power, my mind is a blank slate. What could either of us possibly do?"

I glanced at the ground, a bit remorseful for snapping at her and no longer sure how to process this situation. Any solution seemed viable at this point.

"I don't know, turn back time," I sarcastically muttered to myself.

But Sothis took my words very literally.

"Of course!" she perked up. "I must turn back the hands of time!"

"Wait. . . what?"

I looked up to see Sothis create an unfamiliar magical glyph centered on what appeared to be a burning-red crest symbol.

"Yes, I do believe it can be done!" she said.

I blankly stared for a moment.

"Yeah, sure," I said. "Makes complete sense. I'm about to die anyway. Goddess preserve my soul."

"Oh, stop being so dramatic. I cannot wind back time very far, but all is well. You are aware of what's to come, you can protect yourself this time."

"This isn't a post-mortem dream isn't it. . ."

"Yes! Now go, you who bears the flames within."

The red crest symbol spread its burning aura through the whole glyph like an emblem of fire. Then the dreamscape disappeared into light.

* * *

I blinked again. I was once again standing in front of Edelgard and felt an axe against my back, still frozen in time. Reality then warped around me in the same dark aura as before and I felt myself become weightless, as through I were being carried away by a strong current. Then the aura dissipated and I was standing back where I had been, away from Edelgard. And time resumed.

The noise of combat rang in my ears. The bandit let out his war cry, charged at Edelgard. And I dashed in front of her and blocked the axe. I felt the impact shoot up my shield-arm and it knocked me back into Edelgard. I dug my heel in and swung my sword as swiftly as possible. The bandit saw my delayed movement and leaned back. The blade grazed off his brigandine. I twisted my wrist and swung back at his head. He tried to parry. My sword caught the underside of his axe blade and knocked the weapon out of his hands. The bandit immediately lunged low and wrapped his arms around my midsection. He lifted me off the ground like it was nothing. And slammed me down with his full weight. The force caused me to release my sword. I gasped for air as the wind was knocked out of me. Then the man mounted me and brought his fist down on my helmet in blind rage. I was dizzy and struggling to breathe. I reached down to my belt. The bandit pulled my visor open.

_**"Fucking die!"**_ He yelled and raised a knife above my face.

Then I stabbed my seax right into his throat. He choked. I ripped the blade out. His blood sprayed my face. He slumped over on top of me, gurgled and twitched, then went limp. I struggled for a moment to get out from under his dead weight. Then another man appeared and threw the corpse off of me. I could barely make out his form from the blood in my eyes and instinctively pulled up my still slung shield to protect my head.

"Miss Byleth, it's Dimitri!" The man said.

"Huh. . . ?" I raggedly breathed.

I lowered my shield, blinking rapidly to try and clear my vision. Then the man who identified as Dimitri pulled me to my feet. I felt another hand touch my back and all disorientation was instantly gone from a surge of energy. The effect of a _Restore _spell.

"Still alive, Lady Byleth?" I heard Father Timothée's voice.

"I am now, Father!" I said as I sheathed my seax.

Wiping the blood from my eyelids, I saw the bodies of dead bandits strewn about, maimed to various degrees. The one that nearly killed me, twice, was lying on his back and staring up at the treetops with dead eyes, his throat was a dark red mess. Blade Breakers were rushing past us into the thick brush. The sounds of combat grew distant. Dimitri tried to hand my sword back but I grasped his wrist and looked him right in the eye.

"Your Highness," I said sternly, "with all due respect, stay with the princess and don't move until this is over."

He held the gaze for a moment, realizing fully that I had figured out who he was.

"Understood," he said.

The young prince then handed back my sword and walked over to Edelgard who was standing back up against a tree. I decided I would chastise her later. For now, I flipped my visor back down, drew my sword, and moved through the brush with several other mercenaries, stepping over several corpses that were tangled in bushes and stacked against trees. I passed a wounded bandit who was leaning against a tree, one arm was a dismembered stump that was squirting blood. He stumbled towards me and tried to swipe at me with his knife but I just knocked him aside with my shield to left him to bleed to death. It was easy to find the majority of my company, I just had to follow the sounds of primal war cries and agonized screams. My men were hot-blooded killers.

When I reached the far edge of the woods, I saw the rest of the Blade Breakers crowded together around our banner. I could not see what was happening exactly, but they seemed to have reformed a shield wall and were holding however many hostiles were left in the clearing. The archers stood in the rear and fired curved shots over the ranks. I spotted the archer platoon leader and ran straight him.

"Nicholas!" I said, "Where are the others?" Referring to the platoon leaders.

"Ivar and Devon are by the banner," said Nicholas, pointing into the crowd.

"And Pierre?"

"I don't know."

And that was why keeping track of my platoon leaders was always imperative. I was about to go find my other two living ones but Nicholas grabbed my shoulder.

"You should know that young noble with the yellow cape ran back over here," he jerked his head to the left and I saw Claude firing arrows a few feet away.

"Of course he fucking did," I muttered. "Damn young nobles don't know how to follow instructions."

"He's a good shot at least," Nicholas smirked.

"Just keep him here!"

Then I heard the thundering sound of hoofbeats. And I knew it was time to finish this. I pushed through the ranks to where Ivar and Devon stood with the standard-bearer just in time to see Jeralt's cavalry make their second charge. The remaining bandits lost all will to fight as soon as they saw them and broke in wild panic. I got the standard-bearer's attention and said, "Charge."

He blasted the signal and the infantry company broke formation and attacked like feral wolves. Our enemies tried to flee from us as well but the cavalry troop circled as they charged to herd them. And our attack devolved into a wild, pitiless killing frenzy. The entire area was filled with the dying howls of bandits. Jeralt's horsemen rode down every bandit who tried to escape while my infantrymen butchered every bandit they possibly could. I saw more than a few bandits who were literally hacked to pieces by two or more mercenaries. I even saw Father Timothée run right into the fray, without a weapon, and cast a flesh disintegrating _Aura _spell. I did not even have to bloody my own sword any further. None of Jeralt's Mercenaries had any mercy in their hearts for these criminals.

And just as quickly as the slaughter started, it was over. We simply ran out of bandits to kill and maim. The Blade Breakers let out their cheers of victory, but the celebration was only momentary because then we had to begin the most unpleasant part of any battle; the cleanup and accountability. Ironically, dealing with the dead bodies was not quite as unpleasant as figuring out how many of our ranks were still alive, who were wounded, who were missing, and who were dead. It is impossible to keep track of every man in the sheer confusion that is combat which makes it a hassle to take accountability at the end. So I sheathed my sword, slung my shield, and tied my helmet to my belt and focused on the new priorities. My first instinct after battles was usually to make sure Jeralt was still alive, but I could plainly see him still on his horse next to his standard-bearer so I took accountability of my platoon leaders. Devon and Nicholas were uninjured and taking tally of their men. Ivar was bleeding from a cut in the thigh, he slowed the bleeding by cinching his leg down with his belt before it became fatal and a monk stabilized it with a _Heal _spell but a wound like that would still put him out of action for at least a moon. That was the second time he had been wounded in that leg too, but that didn't bother him. Ivar also did not know what happened to Pierre, so I asked Devon.

"He's dead," he said.

"What happened?"

"Speared right through the torso, his body's back in the woods."

I should have expected that. Pierre had been the longest veteran of our battalion, next to Ivar, and he died without warning just like that. Devon sent a detail to find his body.

_'Aren't you forgetting something?' _said an all too familiar voice.

I looked my shoulder to see none other the girl Sothis floating right next to me.

_"What the Hell?!" _I exclaimed as I recoiled.

_'Must you always be so dramatic?' _she sighed.

"What's wrong, ma'am?" Devon asked me.

"You, can see her, right?" I pointed at Sothis.

"See who?"

_'You fool!'_ said Sothis._ 'I am in _you _no one else can see me.'_

"Never mind," I said to Devon.

"Are you okay ma'am?" he cocked his head.

"I-I'm fine," I shook my head. "It's just the lack of sleep."

"Understood, let me know if you need anything else," he walked off.

_'So now I have a guardian angel over my shoulder,' _I thought to myself. _'Great.'_

_'You are so ungrateful,'_ said Sothis.

_'Wait. . . you can hear my thoughts?' _I looked at her with dread.

_'Yes, including your sass.'_

_'Of course.'_

_'Now if you are done behaving like a simpleton, should you not check on those young nobles you were so concerned about?'_

_'Crap.'_

And so I went back to the woods to make sure Dimitri and Edelgard were still safe, I pointedly brought Claude with me to keep an eye on him. I found the other two right where I left them.

"Miss Byleth," said Edelgard. "Thank you for-"

I abruptly grabbed her by the collar and pulled her surprised face to mine.

"What were you doing here?" I said in a low tone, deliberately pronouncing the noble Adrestian dialect as cleanly as possible.

An embarrassed and indignant blush spread across her pale face. Dimitri tried to intervene for her.

"Miss Byleth, she did not mean to-"

"Let her speak for herself," I said.

"I couldn't just let you fight my battle for me," she said, attempting to regain her bearing.

"Even though you almost pointlessly died?"

"That. . . is just the nature of-"

"There's a difference between fighting like a soldier and recklessly exposing yourself. How can you serve Adrestia as Empress if you throw your life away beforehand? And how can you trust your marshals to obey you if you do not follow instruction yourself?"

She tried to keep a straight face but her eyes betrayed her surprise that I had figured out her identity. I decided to let go of her and stop chastising so bluntly before I could be accused of tactlessness towards a high-ranking noble.

"And that applies to you two as well," I turned to Dimitri and Claude.

"House Blaiddyd won't survive without it's only living heir," I said to Dimitri. "Or House Riegan," I said to Claude.

The young nobles were awkwardly silent for a moment. Edelgard looked slightly ashamed. Claude held a passive face, but his eyes conveyed that was taking the situation seriously. Dimitri simply wore a somber expression.

"You're perceptive," Claude gave a small smile.

"Let's just get back to the rest of the battalion," I said.

They started walking back with me without protest.

"By the way, Miss Byleth, you could us this," Dimitri pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and offered it to me, it was silken white cloth with the Crest of Blaiddyd engraved in the corner.

"For what?" I cluelessly asked.

"Well, the. . . "

He hesitated to directly say that there was anything wrong with my appearance and instead gestured to the grime on his own face.

_'He is talking about the blood on your face,' _said Sothis.

Between the fighting and taking accountability, I had forgotten that I had splattered someone else's blood on me when I killed Edelgard's attacker and only then noticed how sticky it felt. It also dawned on me that the Prince of Faerghus himself was offering me his very expensive personal handkerchief. Me, a commoner mercenary.

"I. . . can't just accept that, Your Highness," I said.

"Nonsense, it's just a cloth, you need it more than I," he replied.

_'Just take it already,' _Sothis added.

So I took handkerchief and tried to clean my face as we walked, though I doubted it actually did anything other than dirtying said handkerchief.

"If I may say so, I thought the way you saved Edelgard was astounding," said Dimitri.

"You mean when I was manhandled like a rag-doll?" I deadpanned.

"Don't devalue your own skill, I was chasing after Edelgard when she rushed into the fray and nearly died. But then you appeared and protected her as though you knew what was about to happen."

_'If only you knew how true that is,' _I thought.

_'Thanks to trial and error,'_ Sothis said mirthfully.

_'Oh, shut up.'_

Dimitri kept talking, becoming more enthusiastic with his descriptions. "And when he focused his attention on you, you quickly reacted and defended yourself. I thought it was too late for me to reach you, but you easily dispatched him!"

I had no idea why I felt my face heating up at his words. I was suddenly somewhat glad that it was already red.

_'Why so embarrassed?' _Sothis was very amused. _'He admires your skill. He even gave you his handkerchief as a sign of that admiration__.'_

_'Shut. Up.'_

I could've sworn I heard Claude snicker behind us. These nobles were a handful. Thankfully, we reached the clearing shortly, but that only brought us back to the ugly business.

One of the things about battle that books, poems, and operas can never truly convey about battle is just how badly it stinks afterwards. It's especially repugnant when the bodies are consolidated in one place. The gallons of blood that soak the ground create a stench that I can only describe as rotten and metallic; combined with the urine an excrement that smells like open sewage. Mana residue from spells also leaves behind a strange scent that, while not unpleasant on its own, only adds to the offensive odor that wafts over the battlefield. And that's all just before the bodies start to decompose and bring the flies and maggots. But whether the corpses are decomposed or not, the victorious side still needs to dispose of them all. Ugly business.

There is also the matter of dealing with the wounded, even the enemy. Not even white magic can completely heal a man, no matter what any opera shows. The human body can only absorb so much mana before rejecting it completely. Our most critically wounded men died that morning because of this, they could only be given concoctions to ease their pain as the monks delivered their last rites. There weren't many enemy wounded, because we killed most of them, but the dozen or so who survived our merciless slaughter suffered worse fates, primarily because they were just bandits. The Blade Breakers were mostly content to just throw them together and sprinkle some concoction or vulnerary fluid on their lips end then leave them to writhe in slightly reduced pain. Even the monks were notably less concerned about caring for the bandits are they were for us. Some mercenaries just arbitrarily killed some of the more badly wounded bandits. The nobles and I walked past one who was laying against a tree and holding his entrails in one hand while crying and begging us for water. A Blade Breaker walked up and nonchalantly smashed his skull with a morning star.

Erich shortly arrived with some of the villagers to assist in piling the corpses together while also giving water and rations to our wounded. I left the young nobles under the care of Father Timothée, mostly so they wouldn't run off again. I also received the final casualty count for the infantry company just as a dismounted Jeralt approached, guiding Eva by the headcollar.

"What's the count?" He asked.

"Thirteen dead and seventeen wounded," I said.

"Damn," his eyes hardened and he rubbed his chin in contemplation. "The troop didn't even lose one."

The company's casualties may not have sounded dire in and of itself, but it greatly reduced our combat effectiveness thanks to our already under-strengthed numbers, something Jeralt was always conscious of. It also called into question our ability to carry out the mission we had recently been hired for. Counting the wounded, the infantry company had been reduced from ninety-three to just sixty-three, barely the size of two platoons. More than that, as stoic and experienced as he was, every death suffered under Jeralt's command pricked his heart like a needle. The truth was in the eyes.

"Jeralt!" The troop leader Erwin rode up to us. "Knights approaching!"

"Adrestian?" asked Jeralt.

"Seiros!"

"Of course," said Jeralt. "The noble brats."

Said noble brats rushed right to us at that moment.

"Is that them?" said Claude.

We could already see a mounted troop of Church knights riding to us from the woods on the other side of the clearing. They were immediately recognizable from their white cloaks that were branded with the Crest of Seiros. Their standard-bearer flew the Church war banner that showed the same crest guarded by a dragon.

"I'm guessing you know them?" I asked the nobles.

"They were our babysitters," Claude smirked.

"Have some respect, Claude," Edelgard frowned at him.

Many of the Blade Breakers wearily eyed the knights as they approached where Jeralt and I stood at our own banner, but our men made way for them nonetheless.

"Are you here for the young nobles?" Jeralt hailed them in the noble Faerghian dialect, what Seiros knights normally spoke.

"Yes!" their troop leader said, seeing the three young nobles next to us. "Thank you for defending them! I see you have already dealt with the-"

The knight abruptly halted his mare and flipped his visor up.

"Sir Jeralt?!" He exclaimed.

Jeralt looked confused for moment. Then he seemed to recognize the knight and his expression changed to surprise, then dread.

"Ugh, why him," Jeralt muttered to himself in common Adrestian.

"You know him?" I said in the same language.

The knight practically leapt from his horse and embraced Jeralt with ecstatic glee, much to Jeralt's chagrin.

"Sir Jeralt, it _is _you!" The knight started speaking in excited common Faerghian. "Don't you recognize me? It's Alois! You're old squire!"

"Yes, I remember you, Alois," Jeralt replied in a very unenthusiastic tone.

"It's been over twenty years since you disappeared," The knight named Alois finally broke the hug. "We only knew you were still alive thanks to the folk stories!"

"You haven't changed one bit, Alois," said Jeralt. "Just as loud as ever. And drop that 'sir' nonsense, I'm not your Grandmaster anymore. These days I'm just a wondering mercenary. One who has work to do. Good-bye, old friend."

He tried to turn and walk away but Alois just grabbed his shoulder.

"Wait!" said Alois. "That isn't how this ends! Since you're band saved these students of ours, I insist that you all return to the monastery with us! You'll be rewarded!"

"Is talking about Garreg Mach?" I looked at Jeralt with surprise.

He just groaned and rubbed his eyes. "I suppose those was inevitable."

"And how about you, kid?" Sir Alois abruptly addressed me, not seeming to care about the residual blood that was still caked my face. "Are you the Grandmaster's child?"

"No, I'm just a domesticated bandit," I snarked.

Alois just laughed. "Great sense of humor this one! Clearly cut from the same cloth as the sir."

"I'd love for you to see Garreg Mach Monastery too," he said to me. "You will join us, won't you?"

I was surprised to be put on the spot so quickly for such a decision. The whole battalion would have to relocate, though no one could entertain the idea that we were still an actual battalion.

"Well, let's face it," I said to Jeralt in Adrestian. "After today our previous mission definitely is not happening anymore. And if those nobles really belong to the monastery we might get compensated for assisting them. Goddess knows we need it."

Jeralt sighed in response, the kind of sigh that conceded validity. He knew I was right, but something still made him very uncomfortable with this decision, something more than just walking out on a previous client.

"What's troubling you, sir?" Alois asked Jeralt, he clearly understood Adrestian but still spoke in Faerghian. "You aren't about to run off again, are you?"

"Even I wouldn't dare run from my old order."

* * *

Ivar, Devon, Nicholas, and Erwin were expectedly surprised and slightly perplexed by our decision. It took a little bit of convincing but they conceded to traveling to Garreg Mach with the Knights of Seiros. It was only about a day's march north anyway, we would make it by the next day. We spent the next few hours finishing our cleanup and preparing for the trek, assisted by the villagers and the Seiros knights. We buried bandit corpses in undignified mass graves. The knights took custody of the still-living bandits. The villagers were gracious to allow our own dead to be buried in their cemetery to honor their sacrifice for Remire. Father Timothée held a brief prayer service for them. The villagers also scrapped together a generous gold payment, one that we really needed. The Holy Knights of the Seiros troop examined our own wounded to make sure they were fit for travel. The older women of the village fussed over me when they saw how filthy I was and pulled me into a barn to thoroughly wash me down, somewhat to my embarrassment. It was close to midday by the time the battalion was prepared for the march to Garreg Mach and so we ate a quick meal and set out.

We transported our wounded on our ambulance wagon for them to rest. The three young nobles were also quite exhausted from the ordeal they had endured so Erich let them recuperate in one of this smaller supply carts. Jeralt noticed my own exhaustion as I walked with my men and plainly ordered me to ride with them for a while, if for no other reason than to check on them.

"I would like to apologize for my actions," Edelgard said to me after I climbed in the cart with them. "I should not have endangered you and I both like that. But I greatly appreciate your help, you're skill and experience are beyond question."

"I appreciate it," I replied. "And I apologize if I displayed a lack of tact."

"I understand completely. And if I may ask, are by chance Sir Jeralt's daughter?"

"As far as I know," I shrugged. "He doesn't really talk about my origins."

Edelgard cocked her eyebrow but didn't pursue the question.

"That is quite impressive to have been raised and trained by such a warrior," she said. "Did you know that he was the Grandmaster of the Knights of Seiros? The most famous order of knights in all of Fódlan? He is often praised as one of the strongest knights to have ever lived."

I blinked at those questions. She spoke as though she were expecting that I knew nothing of Jeralt's history and had somehow never heard of the Knights of Seiros, an odd misconception perpetuated by the _Three Houses_ opera.

"How would I _not _know of the Knights of Seiros?" I asked. "Or that Jeralt used to be their Grandmaster?"

"Ah, forgive me, that came out wrong," Edelgard shook her head.

"I'm glad you're going to Garreg Mach with us," said Claude. "The three of us are students of the Officer's Academy."

"So I've been told," I said. "Sir Alois said that you were conducting a training exercise with when you were attacked. The knights managed to round up the other students except you three."

Claude chuckled. "That's true, we probably should have just told you that from the start. I definitely got the worst of it, I almost got completely separated."

"That would be because you _ran off_," Edelgard shot him a glare.

"Too true!" said Claude. "I was the first to make a strategic retreat. Everything would have worked of it _these two _hadn't followed me and ruined everything. Because of them, every single one of those bandits somehow ended up chasing the three of us _instead of the others_. Utterly ridiculous."

"Ah, so that's what you were thinking, Claude," Dimitri said with bemusement. "And here I thought you were acting as a decoy for the sake of us all."

"His intentions were as clear at day, Dimitri," Edelgard scolded him. "You will prove to be a lacking ruler if you cannot see the truth behind a person's words."

"Hm, you will prove a lacking ruler yourself if you look for deceit behind every word and fail to trust those whom you rely on."

"Oh, joy," Claude snarked. "A royal debate between _Their Highnesses_. I wonder how being completely predictable affects one's ability to wield power. Personally, as the _embodiment_ of distrust, I'd say your little exchange smacks _naivety_." He deliberately said that last word in Faerghian.

_"Me? Naive?" _Edelgard scowled. "Tell me, are you actually incapable of keeping quiet or is your lack of self-awareness a condition of some sort?"

I wasn't sure if I was amused or agitated by their petty debate. Jeralt and I had been at the center of many such pissing contests between nobles, but young nobles were often even more egotistical.

_'Why_ _am I the one stuck with these children. . .' _I thought to myself.

_'They're your age,' _said Sothis.

_'Shut up.'_

_'I'll take that as a concession from now on.'_

_'You're just as bad as them.'_

Dimitri thankfully noticed that their arguing was starting to make me uncomfortable and quickly changed the subject.

"In any case, forgive our digression," he said.

"I know we spoke of it earlier, but I must say again how impressed I was by your actions back there," he said to me. "It was captivating in fact! You never lost control of the situation. It showed me I still have much to learn."

I once again felt my face heating up from his praise. I felt an odd mix of confusion and elation. If Edelgard, or especially Claude, had used those exact same words to praise I me, would have written it off as flattery. Yet the prince seemed to genuinely mean it.

Edelgard then quickly interjected. "You're leadership and combat proficiency are precisely why I must ask you to consider lending your services to-"

"Halt, Edelgard," said Dimitri. "Please, allow me to finish." He then continued speaking to me. "Faerghus is in dire need of exceptional individuals like yourself. Please, do consider returning to the kingdom with me."

Being the socially inept young woman I was at the time, I completely misunderstood his phrasing. In hindsight, I can't help but chuckle at my own response.

"Are you. . . proposing to me?" I said.

The conversation got dead quiet.

"No! No-no-no," Dimitri's face turned bright red as he stammered. "That's not what I meant at all! I just wanted to ask if you would consider potentially serving me as an escort or- Oh, Seiros, that sounded even worse."

Claude burst out laughing. Edelgard looked away and put a hand over her own in a vein attempt to hide her chuckles. I could even hear Sothis laughing. Dimitri just rubbed eyes in humiliation. I could only awkwardly sit still, not knowing what to say. My face felt like it was on fire.

"You- you sure are hasty to start procreating your heirs, Dimitri!" Claude jabbed his companion while struggling to regain his composure. "And someone you just met no less! Tactless, really, I was personally planning to develop a deep and lasting friendship on our journey back to the monastery before begging for _special favors!_"

Edelgard finally started outright laughing. I was starting to feel the gaze of my soldiers looking in our direction.

"Please forgive me for my. . . poor choice of words," a very mortified Dimitri said to me.

"N-no, Your Highness, the fault is my own for misunderstanding," never in my life had I lost my professional bearing in the presence of nobles. "I. . . need to check on the wounded."

I hopped out of the cart without waiting for a response.

"Great, there goes your future wife, Dimitri!" Claude said as he and Edelgard still laughed.

Even the Blade Breakers who were around us were smiling and chuckling with amusement.

_'No reason to be flustered,' _Sothis mirthfully smiled. _'He is quite a handsome young man.'_

_'I wish I could strangle you.'_

* * *

**So, I'd say it's definitely a good thing I broke this portion off from the last chapter, would've been a chore to slog through such a long-winded introduction. XD But at least now I can move on to the meat of the story.**

**Next chapter: The Officer's Academy.**


	4. Cadet-Land

**Cadet-Land**

We could see the south side of Garreg Mach by the next morning, fully beholding the scale of it. The monastery was built on a saddle; the main complex sat on the larger hilltop and a bridge ran across the chasm to connect to the Cathedral of Saint Seiros on the other hilltop. It was by far the largest church I had ever seen in my life, even from miles away, as it covered the whole topside of the rocky hill. There was also a town that expanded out from the main complex on the hill's steadily rising western slope. We marched right up the main street of the town towards the monastery, through a bustling market, and across the drawbridge moat into the monastery walls.

Once though the first gate, we were greeted by a security detail of Church soldiers who helped us unload our wounded and supplies. From there, the convoy was disbanded piecemeal. Holy Knights immediately took our wounded into the monastery itself to be treated at the hospital, they also took the three students with them. Our bandit prisoners were also taken away by an armed escort while squires took our horses to the monastery stables. Alois then unexpectedly whisked away Jeralt and I through the two inner gates and into the monastery itself. He promised that our men would receive quarter and food in the Church barracks and so Jeralt reluctantly left them to be supervised by the knights with Erwin designated as acting commander.

"Greetings, Sir Alois! Nothing to report!" The sentry at the entrance hall hailed our guide, saluting with his right hand over his heart.

"Continue watch, Gatekeeper!" Alois jovially saluted back.

"So this is the home of the Central Church," I mused as Jeralt and I followed Alois inside the vast entrance hall.

_'It certainly is grand,' _said Sothis.

"It's been decades since I've last laid eyes on this place," said Jeralt. "To be forced to see her now. . . "

"Her?"

"The Archbishop!" said Alois. "She will be most pleased to see you again after all this time."

Jeralt simply wore the expression of a man going before a prosecuting magistrate. Sir Alois led us through the entrance hall to the next building, then to a large chamber on the second floor, and a connecting room that appeared to be a private office.

"I'll inform Lady Rhea of your presence, please make yourself comfortable," Alois said, then left the room.

Jeralt and I sat down in the cushioned seats next to the fireplace and did nothing but wait for a while. A servant boy soon entered with a tray of tea and pastries.

"Excuse me," he spoke Faerghian with a heavy Almyran accent. "I brought some refreshments for you."

Jeralt and I thanked him and he set the tray down on the table next to the fireplace then left without another word. That was the first time I met "The Almyran Dragon" Cyril, though we wouldn't be properly acquainted until later. If there was one person who I could describe as having been the workhorse of Garreg Mach, it would be Cyril, even when he was just a fifteen-year-old boy.

"I don't suppose you feel like talking about why you left the Order?" I said to Jeralt, I rarely asked him about it but it seemed appropriate now that we were in the home of the Knights of Seiros, a place that he clearly didn't want to be.

He was briefly silent, then said, "No. Not today."

That was his typical answer. With nothing more to talk about, I took a volume of Church apocrypha from a bookshelf and read in silence while drinking some tea, mostly because I was still thirsty from the march. Jeralt and I rarely had any opportunities to simply relax like this, especially in such a high-class setting. The door opened again a while later, and Jeralt and I stood to greet our new hosts.

That was when I first laid eyes on the Archbishop of the Church of Seiros. Her face was that a young woman no older than her thirties, yet there was something about her that suggested wisdom beyond such years. She had an undeniably regal presence wearing white, blue, and golden regalia. Her head was covered in long, sea-foam green hair and an elaborate golden headdress decorated with white lilies. Next to her was a man also dressed in Church regalia and had neck-length emerald hair and stern eyes that matched in color. I couldn't help but notice that their hair covered their ears.

"Thank you for your patience, Sir Jeralt," the man said. "My name is Seteth. I am the Seneschal of the Church and advisor to Archbishop Rhea."

"Right, hello," Jeralt nodded, only he could get away with such a nonchalant greeting to the second-in-command of the Church Army, but the Seneschal didn't seem to care.

"It has been a long time, Jeralt," Rhea smiled. "I wonder, was it the will of the Goddess that we have another chance meeting like this?"

"Forgive my silence all these years," Jeralt had a noticeably more reverent tone with her, even giving a short bow. "Much has. . . happened since we last spoke."

"So I see," she looked at me with pale green eyes that had all the warmth of a mother. "And are you Jeralt's daughter?"

"Yes, My Lady," I said. "Or so I'm told."

"That is an oddly vague response to such a basic question," Seteth cocked an eyebrow.

"It is fine, Seteth," said Rhea. "I heard of your valiant efforts from Alois." She continued talking to me. "Tell me, what is your name?"

"Byleth Sitri Eisner, My Lady."

I noticed a sparkle in her eyes at the mention of my middle name.

"I wish I could introduce you to her mother," Jeralt interjected. "But we lost her to illness."

I involuntarily glanced at him, that was the most he had spoken of my mother in years.

"That is quite tragic, but you are certainly blessed with a strong child. From the bottom of my heart, I give my thanks to both of you, and your men, for protecting Edelgard, Dimitri, and Claude."

"Hmph," Jeralt just looked at the ground forlornly.

"Jeralt, you already know what it is I wish to say, do you not?"

"You want me to rejoin the Knights of Seiros. I won't say no, but. . . "

"Your apprehension stings," her eyes showed sincere disappointment. "Please understand, I am not trying to coerce you into swearing allegiance to the Church, or even to resume your previous position as Grandmaster, but I do beseech you to consider joining the Order once more. You are without question the most capable warrior to ever serve in its ranks. At least speak with the current Grandmaster, Sir Gilbert."

"I will. . . consider it."

"That is all I ask of you, Jeralt," she turned her attention to me again. "But may I offer a proposition for your services as well, Byleth?"

_'What's with high-ranking people and requesting my services lately?'_

_'Noteworthy ability brings opportunity,' _said Sothis.

I ignored her and decided that the offer was at least worth hearing.

"How may I be of assistance, My Lady?"

"The Officer's Academy is on the cusp of a new school year, but unfortunately, we are in need of one more professor to be the head cadre of one of the three houses, specifically the house of the Faerghian cadets. I believe a young but proficient individual such as yourself will be a boon to them."

I was not expecting to hear anything like that. Even Seteth appeared to look surprised at such an proposition, downright skeptical in fact, but he voiced no objection to the Archbishop.

"A professor?" I said with marked confusion. "I have no formal education, Jeralt is the one who's taught me everything I know about combatives and leadership."

"I hardly see that as a disadvantage," Rhea shook her head, "Being under his tutor for the whole of your life has certainly given you first hand insight that you may be able to pass down to the next generation of warrior leaders. Not many can say that they have that."

"In truth, we already had a candidate chosen for that position," said Seteth, "But according to Sir Alois, he ran when the cadets were attacked,"

Jeralt and I shared a pensive glance.

"That's your decision, kid," he said grimly, as though I were being offered up for a pagan sacrifice.

"I am. . . extremely honored by your request, My Lady," I said to her. "But I that's not something I can just spontaneously decide."

"I understand completely," said Rhea. "I only wanted to present the option to you. The Knights will be holding a leader's meeting tomorrow morning, that should give you ample time to decide. I strongly encouraged you to familiarize yourself with the monastery and become acquainted with some of the prominent cadets here, Byleth."

"We'll have a answer for you by tomorrow, ma'am," said Jeralt.

"Very well, until tomorrow then."

* * *

"Just my luck, forced back into the Knights of Seiros," Jeralt muttered as he and I shared a meal in the dining hall.

"She's definitely eager to have you back, but I'd hardly call it forceful," I said after a bite of steak.

"You can't spend decades effectively managing the most powerful institution on the continent without being a sharp diplomat. Alois certainly told Rhea of the battalion's condition. We're no longer combat effective; we need men, gold, and a purpose, all things that the Church can provide plentifully should I rejoin the Knights. They probably won't even require the oaths of the men in light of my past service. And the academy is always in need of instructors, having you as a cadre would just give me more cause to stay."

He went back to cutting his own steak.

"You think she's trying to take advantage of us?"

"Not maliciously, but she definitely knows it's a _quid pro quo _that we can't reasonably refuse. And asking you specifically to teach one of the cadet houses? She has an agenda in mind."

_'He does have a point, the choice she presented to you is very well orchestrated, almost as if she expected this,' _said Sothis.

_'But how does it truly benefit her for me to be a cadre? I still don't get what she sees in me, I may have been mentored by Jeralt, but I'm still just a mercenary. Hell, I'm not much older than some of these cadets.'_

_'But you have the uncommon the ability to exert control in the chaos of combat, enough to have three future rulers vying for your service of their respective realms. And if that is not enough for you, you have the trust of a highly revered knight.'_

_'I just lost one of my platoon leaders. _After _losing accountability of all four of them.'_

_'Men die in battle and communication always breaks down. You know that. The fact that Pierre followed you without reservation speaks to how much he trusted you despite his seniority in age and experience. You yourself almost died twice yet you remained collected, saved the Adrestian princess from certain death, and continued carrying out your mission. And you still won.'_

_'But the battalion still lost an irreplaceable veteran.'_

_'Are you always so self-critical?'_

_'Being self-critical is what keeps me combat effective.'_

Either way, we needed to discuss these propositions with the battalion's subordinate leaders before going back to Rhea with a decision. I still found it highly unusual that the Archbishop wanted me to teach a house but I was content to just enjoy my food for the moment. It had been a long time since Jeralt and I had a meal this good. We were just about to leave the hall upon finishing when we were approached by a large knight with orange hair and a stern, chiseled face. He wore the gray and silver cloak of a marshal, and wrapped around his shoulders was the red sash of the Seiros Grandmaster.

"Pardon me, are you Sir Jeralt?" he asked.

"I am Jeralt, yes," he replied.

"Hail," He gave a formal bow with his right hand over his heart. "It is an honor to meet you, Sir Jeralt. I am Gilbert Pronislav, current Grandmaster of the Knights."

"'Stonewall' Gilbert?" said Jeralt. "I've heard stories about your exploits."

"Mine are nothing compared to yours, I can promise you that. I apologize for not being present for your meeting with Lady Rhea, I had to make sure those prisoners you rounded up were securely locked in the town stockades."

"It's no trouble, Lady Rhea simply asked me to rejoin the Knights. She also wants my kid here to teach one of the houses."

"And you are the 'Ashen Demon' Byleth, I presume?" Gilbert said to me.

"Yes, sir, though I haven't been called that in a while," I said.

"And I assumed the two of you will be present at the meeting tomorrow to discuss the possibility of joining the fold."

"We'll have answers for Lady Rhea by then," said Jeralt. "We can't make a decision without consulting our platoon leaders first."

"We hope you say yes, we could use the help!" A woman's voice said.

_'Well aren't we popular today,' _I sardonically thought to myself as Jeralt and I were approached by a brown-haired woman and a middle-aged, gray-haired man.

"You must be Sir Jeralt!" The woman said to him. "My, how stern and handsome you are!"

"Manuela, at least have the courtesy to introduce yourself before attempting to seduce him," the older man chided her.

"Oh, quit being such a stuffed shirt, Hanneman," the woman scowled. "I was only being friendly to our new professor."

"Er, sorry," Jeralt awkwardly chuckled. "I'm not the one you're looking for."

He then slapped me on the shoulder. "You should get to know the monastery, kid."

"And I suppose I should acquaint you with our battalion," he said to Gilbert.

"That would be beneficial," the Grandmaster nodded.

Jeralt then wished me luck as he walked away with the Grandmaster, leaving me with my two new acquaintances.

"It's you then?" the woman said. "So young. . . "

"Competence and age are not necessary correlated," the man said to his companion as though it were the most obvious fact, then he extended his hand to me. "Pleased to meet you, I am Hanneman von Essar, head professor of the Black Eagle house."

I shook his hand. "I'm Byleth Eisner of Jeralt's Mercenaries, pleased to meet you."

"And I'm Manuela Casagranda," the woman greeted me. "I'm the head professor of the Golden Deer house and one of the primary physicians at the monastery hospital. I'm also a former songstress of the Mittelfrank Opera Company."

_'That explains the un-subtle pass at Jeralt.' _I didn't understand what is was about songstresses that made them so love-starved.

"What exactly are the cadet houses?" I asked. "Lady Rhea didn't quite explain it to me."

"It's simple, really," said Hanneman. "The academy has about a thousand cadets from each realm. The Adrestian cadets are the Black Eagles, the Faerghian cadets are the Blue Lions, and the Leicester cadets are the Golden Deer. "

"But more than that, the student body is also divided into the cadet soldiers and cadet officers," Manuela added. "The cadet soldiers compose the majority of the student body and the cadet officers are the select few individuals who act as the leaders within the houses."

"How is that determined?" I asked.

"Through the month-long entrance training exams," said Hanneman. "The top eight cadets of each realm who display extraordinary potential become the designated house officers, regardless of social class."

"What's more, the current classes of each house are lead by the three heirs of the realms," said Manuela.

"To think that the next rulers of Fódlan are all here simultaneously," Hanneman mused. "It's certainly a promising year for the academy."

"Speaking of whom, isn't that Prince Dimitri over there?" said Manuela.

I looked where she pointed and saw Dimitri walking to the dish line while conversing with another young man, he was so occupied with speaking to him that he did not see us.

"I should introduce you!" Manuela said enthusiastically.

"Oh, no, that won't-"

"Oh, Prince Dimitri!"

"-be necessary. . . "

"Already stirring up trouble. . . " Hanneman mumbled.

The Faerghian prince looked in our direction just as he placed his dirty dishes down. His expression seemed to brighten up when he saw me and he came right over to us with his friend in tow.

"Professor Manuela, Professor Hanneman, how is your day?" he greeted.

"Oh, forget about us, darling, I'd like to introduce you to someone very special," she grinned at me.

"Miss Byleth, It's good to see you settling here in the monastery," he nodded to me.

"Um, thank you, Your Highness," I couldn't help but feel a tad hesitant to talk to him after our extremely awkward exchange the other day, we had barely spoken the rest of the journey.

"You've. . . already met?" Manuela said with plain surprise.

"Of course, Miss Byleth's battalion saved Edelgard and Claude and I from our attackers the other day."

"Well. . . actually it's Jeralt's battalion, I only commanded the infantry company," I murmured to Manuela and Hanneman.

"But you commanded as well as any marshal. In fact, I've been wanting to find you so I may introduce you to my classmates," he gestured to the much taller and broader young man beside him. "This is my dear friend, Dedue Molinaro."

"A pleasure," he plainly said with a simple nod.

Dedue was a calm, yet stone-faced bear of a man with snow white hair and skin the color of bronze. I must of looked like a small child next to him, he looked like he could easily snap my spine in half with his tree-trunk arms. I found it unusual that the Prince of Faerghus considered a Duscurite to be a dear friend, especially one who wore the earring symbol of their war god, I did not deem it appropriate to ask.

"Well, if you'll excuse us, Hanneman and I have some important work to attend to," Manuela said to us.

Then she hastily grabbed Hanneman by the arm and dragged him with her as she hurried away.

"What- Manuela, this is indecent," he protested. "Just what the devil are you scheming?"

"Oh, quit your bellyaching, old man, let her get to know the students!"

"The young woman just here! You're only trying to play mischievous games!"

"Stuff it and give her some space!"

The two professors were practically at each others throats as they exited the hall.

"Well, your house professors are certainly . . . interesting," I said.

"Don't mind to their antics," Dimitri shook his head with amusement. "They are both extremely valuable teachers but when together they could disagree on the color of water."

"So I see. And I'm told you're the leader of the Blue Lion house."

"Correct!" His face lit up. "And Dedue is my House Sergeant. In fact, if you have some time on your hands, I would like to introduce you to the others. Dedue and I were just going to go meet them for training."

_'No time like the present to meet your prospective students,' _Sothis added.

"Lead the way," I said.

And so I followed Prince Dimitri and Dedue to the cadet training grounds to meet the rest of the Blue Lions. I had no way of knowing that these cadets would change my life forever.

* * *

The other Blue Lion officers were already gathered in a wide-open courtyard that served as the monastery's exclusive combat training facility for the cadet officers. It had stations for all manner of close-quarter combatives, and the cadets were certainly busy with them. A red-headed boy and platinum-blonde girl were practicing spear drills with each other in a sparring circle. A small gray-haired boy stood in front of short-ranged arrow targets practicing trick shots with a mini-bow. An orange-haired girl and a dull-blonde girl stood on either side of a small mana orb and manipulated a fireball between them, almost like playing catch. And off in a corner a lean, black-haired boy ravaged a revolving straw dummy with a two-handed longsword.

Dimitri introduced me around to each of the Lions as we walked into the training grounds, enthusiastically telling them of how I 'saved' him and the other house leaders in Remire. I tried to keep my deeds from being oversold but just the prospect of acting in defense of their crown prince was enough to leave quite a first impression. Ashe Ubert, the gray-haired boy, and Ingrid Brandl Galatea, the platinum-blonde girl, gave me their thanks as citizens of Faerghus. Mercedes von Martritz, the dull-blonde, and Annette Fantine Dominic, the orange-haired girl, assumed that I was going to enroll in the academy with them, which I didn't directly answer. The redheaded boy name Sylvain Jose Gautier immediately hit on me, considering himself lucky to be approached by 'such a beauty'. I could only awkwardly thank him for his kind words.

"You're late, boar," the black-haired sword-fighter said to Dimitri, completely ignoring my presence.

"Good afternoon to you too, Felix," Dimitri dryly replied, then looked at me. "Miss Byleth, this is Felix Hugo Fraldarius. He is our... combatives enthusiast."

"Hold on, you're the mercenary who fought with this boar prince?" Felix said to me.

"That's me."

He now looked at me with interest and curiosity. "He spoke in great vivid detail about what you did. The boar prince doesn't rave about just anyone's skill, I look forward to sparing with you later. And beating you."

_'Well he's friendly,' _Sothis snarked.

"But before that, you still owe me another match," Felix pointedly said to Dimitri, crossing his arms.

"Yes, Felix, I hadn't forgotten," Dimitri rolled his eyes.

"And since you beat him in the tournament, maybe it should be two against one!" Sylvain chuckled.

"Quit trying to be an instigator!" Ingrid snapped at him.

"Actually, that's not a bad idea," said Dimitri. "Why don't you team up with Dedue, Felix?"

I could see just a hint a mischievous smile curl on the edge of Dimitri's lips as he said that. Felix eyed the impassive Dedue for a moment.

"Fine," He said dispassionately."So long as you don't pull your blows."

It occurred to me that I had not actually gotten to see Dimitri's combat ability back in Remire, shield-walls be damned, but now I could see what he was really made of without the encumbrance of static formations or the chaos of battle. And so I watched as the three boys took their wooden training weapons from the racks and stepped into the sand-pit sparring circle. They each put on a training brigandine vest that was covered in small sacks filled with red dye to simulate blood and indicate a kill. The other Lions gathered around as the three combatants took their fighting stances. Dimitri spread his legs to widen his center of gravity, bending his knees, and leveled his training spear. The Faerghian prince stood in the center of a sand-filled dueling circle, flanked by his two opponents. Dedue stood at Dimitri's right, wielding a training axe in the high-guard. Felix flanked Dimitri's left, holding his longsword at mid-guard. The three young men put the blades of their weapons together as custom. Ingrid then stepped into the circle with her own sword and put it underneath the boys' weapons.

"On your guard, fight!" She thrusted their weapons up.

Felix lunged low, Dimitri knocked him back with a straight jab to the chest from his spear-butt. Dedue swung at the prince's unguarded side only to be parried by his spearhead. Dimitri then quickly stepped back and allowed Felix to lung forward again, nearly striking Dedue, but Felix abruptly stopped and pivoted in place to swing at Dimitri's head. The prince simultaneously swung his spear forward, blocking Felix's sword, and nearly struck him with the spearhead but Felix leapt back just in time to dodge it. Dimitri immediately redirected his spearhead to parry a subsequent strike from Dedue's axe, dislodging the larger man's balance. The prince then quickly stepped back, wheeled his spear, and struck Dedue's side; then he pulled the spearhead back to him and slashed Dedue's shoulder. Felix dashed right back at Dimitri at that moment and the prince blocked the sword-slash with his shaft then sidestepped and redirected Felix away from himself. Dimitri tried to strike at Felix's exposed side, but the sword-fighter pivoted and knocked the spearhead away with his blade. The prince stepped back from the force of the parry but then regained his guard and the two opponents stared each other down.

"Nice!" said Sylvain.

Dedue, for his part, stepped out of the circle, soundly defeated with two of his 'blood clots' ruptured.

"Way to go, Your Highness!" Annette cheered.

Dimitri and Felix circled each other for a moment, moving away from the edge and back to the center. Both boys held low stances, like predators waiting to pounce, then re-engaged. Felix cut high. And was parried by Dimitri's spearhead. He slashed low at his leg. And was blocked again. Then Dimitri pulled his spearhead up and thrusted forward. Felix pulled his sword to chest and parried the stab. He used the opening to slash at Dimitri's body, but the prince circled his spear up and pushed Felix's blade towards the ground. Felix quickly slipped his weapon out from under Dimitri's then held the spear-shaft down with his sword's blunt side. In one fluid motion, Felix slid his sword up the shaft and struck the prince's chest with such force that he stumbled back and fell.

And the match was over.

The rest of the Lions gave a small applause to the victor. Dimitri was momentarily rattled by the strong blow he received, blinking with mild surprise as he looked down at fake blood that caked his vest, yet showed no anger in losing.

"Well done, Felix," he said, as the black-haired boy helped him up.

"You fought well," Felix replied with indifference.

"I want to see what you're made of now," he said to me.

Even with the perpetually impassive expression he wore, I could see the iron will in his eyes. The same cold, determined stoicism I had seen in the eyes of many mercenaries. And Prince Dimitri.

"No problem," I simply replied as I grabbed a longsword from the weapons rack next to me.

"No way, she's taking on _Felix_?" Annette exclaimed.

"Oh, my," said Ashe.

"This I've got to see," Sylvain said with genuine interest.

"I'll stand by for any healing needed," said Mercedes, she seemed particularly concerned about me.

I put on my own training vest and stepped inside the circle with Felix. The Lions were watching us very intently now, even Dedue wanted to see this match play out. I took a few small practice swings with my wooden longsword to feel its weight and balance. It was naturally a tad lighter than a metal longsword, which I was familiar with, but still longer and less balanced that what usually fought with. Like many foot soldiers, I normally favored my one-handed arming sword in real combat to allow for a shield, fighting without the latter is tantamount to suicide in most cases. Though I once met a mercenary named Ike who was strong enough to easily swing around a longsword one-handed.

"Care to call it, Your Highness?" I asked Dimitri.

"Oh-um, sure!"

Felix and I touched swords and Dimitri stepped back and held his spearhead underneath.

"On your guard," he threw our swords up. "Fight!"

Felix immediately lunged and stabbed at my head. I parried with my blunt side and thew a counter-cut. He dodged and stabbed forward again, I barely moved my head back in time. I knocked his sword away then twisted my wrists and threw a wider backhand slash that he leapt back from. He dashed right back to me and swung his sword down in a vertical slash. I caught his sword with mine and pivoted left to redirect the blow, but then he disengaged and swiftly circled around to my exposed back. I pivoted just in time to block his next blow, twisted my wrists again, then slashed down at his shoulder. He blocked it as he stepped back. I lunged and cut low at his leg but he sidestepped and cut at my own leg. I quickly blocked it, then pulled by sword up and swung at his torso. He caught the strike with his sword and knocked me back hilt punch.

I leveled my sword to back to mid-guard and slowly circled Felix, who eyed me like a hawk. The other Lions were dead silent watching our match. Just the sounds of our breathing and footsteps were deafening. We slowly moved closer to each other, swords at mid-guard, eyes locked to read each others movements. He threw a short feint strike to test my reaction. I just tapped it aside with my sword-tip, still holding my guard. He lunged with a greater swing. I countered, and slid my blade down his to his hilt guard and jabbed his chest with my pommel. He stumbled back slightly but knocked my sword away before I could strike. I ducked under his counter-slash, then sidestepped downward slash. I dashed forward with a high cut but he grabbed his blade with one hand and pulled his sword up horizontally, blocked my sword, and pushed be back.

We instantly retook our stances and stared each other down again.

_'Damn, he's good.__'_

_'He's clearly been training years, a natural swordsman,' _said Sothis.

_'True, but there's one thing he hasn't learned yet.'_

_'And what might that be?'_

_'Sheer audacity.'_

Before Felix could attack again, I planted my left foot forward, grabbed my sword-tip with one hand, and bought my hilt to my shoulder with the other. And threw my sword straight at him. He immediately jumped back and knocked the projectile away with a wild swing. And he was open. I simultaneously charged and tackled him to the ground, driving my shoulder into his midsection to knock the air out of him. He quickly reached far the sword he dropped, but I pinned his arm, pressed my right knee into his chest, and posted my other leg for leverage. I then picked up his own sword and held the tip to his throat.

"Do you yield?" I said.

"Y-yes," he gasped out as he struggled for air.

I got off and helped him up.

"Good fight," I consoled him. "You're very talented."

He just stared at the ground as he tried to regain his breath, slightly shocked by how I defeated him. I noticed the other cadets were silent and looked around to see them awestruck. Even the eyes of stone-faced Dedue betrayed his surprise.

_"Damn," _said Sylvain.

"That was. . . unorthodox," said Ingrid.

"I've never seen someone do that before!" Ashe added.

"H-how _did_ she even do that?!" Annette exclaimed.

Mercedes stepped into the circle and put her arm around Felix to support him as he stood straight.

"Are you okay, Felix?" she asked in a concerned tone.

"I. . . I'm fine," he scowled and pulled away, clearly embarrassed from her sister-like attention.

"That. . . was nothing like I expected," he said to me equal parts astonishment and interest. "Did you. . . _deliberately _throw your weapon just to create an opening?"

I nodded. "Audacity and unpredictability are crucial elements of combat. The enemy will have a delayed response to something they don't expect. And when they've matched you blow for blow, sometimes you just have to damn the risks and do whatever you have to do to prevail.

"Considering what I saw at Remire, I suppose I shouldn't be surprised by that," Dimitri smiled. "I know you just got here, but it would truly be a blessing if you trained with us and show what Sir Jeralt has taught you."

I looked at the ground for a moment, feeling the tingle that had become fairly regular of my few conversations with Dimitri.

"Well. . . consider your wish granted, Your Highness," I looked back at him. "I will be frequently training with all of you from this point on."

"Really?" Dimitri's eyes sparkled with almost boyish excitement.

"You're joining our class?" Annette squeaked with equal elation.

"Not quite," I said.

Looking back on that day, it sounds completely contradictory that I made my decision at that moment despite the previous apprehension I had just hours earlier. Even today I sometimes wonder, what really changed my mind? Truthfully, I really didn't understand it at the time but I know now that they all had a spirit that drew me to them in a way that I had never experienced before. Here I was, surrounded by cadets who were all younger than me, with one exception, and certainly did not nearly have my same level of combat experience. But that did not concern me, because I could see something special in them. They had a desire to make themselves stronger, like a den of young, untested lion cubs. And so I looked at them and made the decision that permanently impacted my life.

"Starting tomorrow, I am your new professor."

* * *

**Fun note: I used the fight scene between Oberyn Martell and Gregor Clegane in GoT as an inspiration for Dimitri and Felix's fight. I wanted to get a visual feel for a spear-fighter vs. sword-fighter dynamic (with less head crushing of course XD). **

**I deliberately skimmed over Byleth's initial meet-and-greet conversations with the Blue Lions. It's basically just small talk and filler that's been done to death. I also made my version of the house system a little different in that t****he playable characters are the "cadet officers" who lead the "cadet soldiers", kind of like how real-life military cadets have their own ranking structures. I wanted to do it this way partly as an in-fic explanation for all the NPC students and partly to self-indulge a bit since I was an ROTC cadet for the entirety of college. (lol)**

**Next chapter: Byleth tries to hold the Blue Lions together in the mock battle, she has her work cut out for her.**


	5. Lion Cubs (Part 1)

**Thanks a lot to everyone who faved and reviewed this, I'm glad you're enjoying it. I know I promised the mock battle for this one, but my career and extraneous life circumstances have kept me busy even with COVID. But I haven't updated in a while and I didn't want to keep you guys hanging forever so I decided to break up my chapters again (which I'll probably keep doing) and hopefully provide a little distraction from the ridiculousness that is the current reality.**

**Hope you guys enjoy.**

* * *

**Lion Cubs (Part 1)**

All three houses rose bright and early on the day of the mock battle. Jeralt and I met Hanneman and Manuela in the schoolhouse courtyard well before dawn to discuss the plan for the day. Formal classes and training of the academy curriculum had not started yet, this mock battle was a practical examination to gauge the leadership ability of the cadet officers. As the Seiros Grandmaster, Gilbert would have been the senior cadre overseeing the exercise, but pressing matters involving an unexpected surge in bandit activity called him and most of the marshals away just the day before. The newly re-knighted Sir Jeralt thus became the senior cadre of the event by Gilbert's request. Jeralt was naturally miffed at not being able to go out on a mission, he was never one for garrison life. And so while Erich and the orderly boys from our battalion cordially volunteered to provide quartermaster assistance, Jeralt just reluctantly came along to "babysit the brats."

The cadets assembled in the courtyard as the pre-dawn gray began to fill the sky. As a whole, the houses were each divided into eight companies led by the cadet officers. For the mock battle, however, the houses were all instructed to select 150 of their cadet soldiers from all of their companies and divide them among the cadet officers as they saw fit. In the Blue Lions, Dimitri led the largest platoon of thirty while Dedue, Felix, Ashe, Sylvain, and Ingrid led twenty-man platoons. Annette and Mercedes led ten-man mage sections. While the other Blue Lion officers inspected our house's cadet soldiers, I pulled Dimitri aside to informally brief him. He had been looking forward to this day since I had chosen to be the Blue Lion's professor eleven days ago.

"You look excited," I said.

"Of course," he smiled. "Everyone's eager to put our skills to the test, especially Felix. And you, professor?"

"I'm looking forward to seeing what you all can do as a unit."

"Excellent. After Remire, I have high expectations of your command."

"That's what I need to talk to you about actually, you can't use me as a crutch for this battle."

"What do you mean?"

"The other professors and I may be your commanders, but you are the ones being evaluated. I will help you where you need me but as your professors our roles will mostly be relegated to advisory rather than direct command."

"I see," he was plainly disappointed.

"I know that's not what you were expecting," I tried to console him. "But I agree with the other professors that this way will be more beneficial for all of you. How you all perform will directly dictate how we will need to teach you all. You will have the initiative over the school year."

"I understand completely, I was just. . . looking forward to once again seeing your leadership in action."

_'Why is he so fixated on me?' _I thought to myself, I wasn't exactly sure what was going on inside his head but I knew I needed to find some way to keep his morale from sinking before the mock battle.

"I'm sure you'll have plenty of opportunities, but don't forget what this is really for," I said as I put my hand on his shoulder. "You will eventually command the Royal Faerghian Army as king, but I'm nothing more than a hired sword."

For whatever reason, my words elicited a look in his eyes that was far beyond mere disappointment, even though I only spoke the truth.

"Well, my offer for you to serve the Kingdom in official capacity still stands," he weakly smiled.

I really didn't know how to respond to that.

"I. . . appreciate that, Your Highness," I took my hand away from his shoulder. "But let's focus on the here and now."

And then my pathetic attempt at encouragement was ruined by the interruption of two other young nobles.

"Hey there!" Claude greeted us in Faerghian with his sly smile. "Did we miss our invite to this strategy meeting? Oh, no worries, we'll just join in now."

"Nice try, Claude, but I do not intend to let slip our strategies," Dimitri pointedly replied in Leicesterish before switching back to his native tongue. "Especially to such strong opponents as you two."

I did not miss the mild sarcasm in his voice.

"Well now! Kind words from his kingliness," Claude replied with greater sarcasm as he glanced at Edelgard. "If that's the case, we better come up with some clever schemes so as not to disappoint. Right, Princess?"

"Right," she said with a sweet, fake smile. "Though you may as well save your energy. No matter the tactics you devise, we will _destroy _you. The best you can hope for is to learn a thing or two."

Dimitri chuckled. "There's nothing wrong with a friendly rivalry, but let's not get carried away, Edelgard. A rash attitude could be your undoing after all."

I actually couldn't tell if his smile was mocking or not.

"Hmm. . . perhaps your time would be better spent preparing instead of worrying about the competition's mindset," the Adrestian princess continued the battle of polite sarcasm. "Maybe then you might actually excel."

"Hey, now!" Claude interjected. "If you two are getting this fired up before the battle even starts. . . it'll be that much easier for my class to sweep up a win. So please, carry on." He winked.

_"Cadets!"_ I interjected myself. "Save the measuring contest for the field. We don't have much time left so make sure your houses have completed your inspections."

"Why, Teach!" Claude said dramatically. "Don't you think it's rude to imply that our fair Edelgard has a-"

"Shut the fuck up and get back to work, Your Grace."

"Yes, ma'am," he hurried away without another word.

"Right, I. . . apologize for being rude, professor," Edelgard's pale faced turned slightly pink and she left as well.

"That was my fault," Dimitri frowned. "Forgive me, professor."

"Forget about it, just make sure the Lions are ready before the dawn bell tolls."

"Right away," he sharply turned and walked back to his house battalion.

_'Goddess, give me patience with these children.'_

_'Considering their conflicting personalities, I'd say you're handling them fairly well,' _Sothis smirked. _'For a hired sword that is.'_

_'I wasn't talking to you.'_

But even though I had just told Dimitri to remain focused on the present, my mind couldn't help but wander back to something I had recently discovered.

* * *

It had been an interesting ten days since coming to Garreg Mach. Jeralt was unsurprised by my decision to accept Lady Rhea's offer, nor was I surprised that he was leaning on rejoining the Knights of Seiros. I was a tad apprehensive of how the Blade Breakers would react to my sudden decision, but they were remarkably open-minded about it considering our circumstances. Jeralt and I had a long discussion with Erwin, Ivar, Devon, Nicholas, and Erich that night and they all came to the mutual agreement that this was the best option we had now. Not that there was a real reason to say no, the Central Church Army was a well reputed employer with no shortage of work and most of our men were practicing Seirists anyway. The next day, we spoke to Archbishop Rhea, Seneschal Seteth, and the Seiros marshals as previously agreed. Rhea was of course pleased to have to Jeralt back, just as she was pleased to have me. Seteth did not look pleased to have me as a cadre at all but did not contradict the will of the Archbishop. His "little sister" Flayn, on the other hand, was overjoyed to have "a new addition to the Officer's Academy", even though she wasn't even a cadet. Rhea even offered to give Jeralt a grand knighting ceremony but he declined. Sir Gilbert took it a step further by offering to step down as Grandmaster so Jeralt could lead the Order again, but he naturally declined that to and opted to continue commanding the Blade Breakers, who were allowed to remain under his command as his private battalion.

Alois was ecstatic to have Jeralt back in the Order and treated him as though he were still the Grandmaster, ironic given that the former squire was now one of the nine commanding marshals of the Central Church Army. Alois even insisted on having Jeralt and I over for dinner at his home in the town where his very hospitable wife and daughter prepared a large meal for us. The joyful knight spent the evening dazzling his family with tale after tale of Jeralt's valor and heroism in battle.

"You should have seen it!" said Alois. "There we were, just an isolated, dismounted troop, trapped in the valley by a full battalion of Almyran warriors!"

"It was much less than that," said Jeralt.

"But they attacked us from two sides and nearly broke our shield wall! Sir Jeralt had to have killed over ten men that day!"

"I couldn't have killed more than five."

"You certainly killed more than I! I was just scared squire trying not to wet myself!"

"I saw you smash an Almyran's head with your axe."

I was starting to question just how much I really knew about Jeralt's life.

Jeralt's Mercenaries spent the next ten days recuperating and recruiting new men from the town's mercenary guild while I became acquainted with the cadet officers from the Black Eagles and Golden Deer. My purpose in doing so was not to become friends however, I mainly wanted to learn their identified talents and the types of units they were being trained to directly command. This way I could progressively gauge how the Blue Lions would fair against their rivals. I was surprised find that the Black Eagle officer class was made up almost entirely of the most important heirs of Adrestia. Their House Sergeant, Hubert von Vestra, was Edelgard's retainer and the heir to the Ministry of the Imperial Household. Aside from him, four of the other six governmental Adrestian houses were represented by Ferdinand von Aegir, who never missed an opportunity to say his full name, Caspar von Bergliez, Linhardt von Hevring, and Bernadetta von Varley. The two outliers were Petra Macneary, the Princess of Brigid, and Dorothea Arnault, the only commoner.

Similarly, the Golden Deer officer class had all five heirs of the Leicester Alliance Roundtable. Aside from Claude, the other four heirs were House Sergeant Lorenz Hellman Gloucester, Hilda Valentine Goneril, Lysithea von Ordelia, and Marianne von Edmund. The three commoner members were Raphael Kirsten, Ignatz Victor, and Leonie Pinelli. Leonie had been personally trained by Jeralt back in 1174 when our battalion had carried out a long mission in Gloucester County killing bands of armed poachers who were starving several hunting villages of their game, including Leonie's home of Sauin. While we were there, Jeralt made it a priority to train many young hunters of the villages in the arts of combat, even the child hunters, so they could provide security for their homes in the future. Other mercenary groups probably wouldn't have gone that far, but Jeralt believed that even serfs and peasants should be able to defend their homes rather than just rely on their feudal lords for protection, and idea that was nearly unheard of at the time. The fact that the Leicester Alliance had no standing army certainly didn't help the villages. As a result, Jeralt's tutelage had left a lasting impact on Leonie to such a degree that she now idolized him almost religiously, and proudly proclaimed to be his "greatest apprentice" who would one day "surpass" me. I barely even remembered her.

After informing Rhea of my decision, I had also met with Hanneman in his office where he took the time to familiarize me with my role as a house professor. I was a bit relieved to know that while I was in command of all Blue Lion cadets, it wasn't my responsibility to directly instruct the many cadet soldiers, each house had their own faculty staff for that purpose. My main responsibility was instead to teach Prince Dimitri and the cadet officers, who would then put their lessons into practice by leading the cadet soldiers in training and day-to-day activities. How they would lead the Blue Lion soldiers would thus be a direct reflection of how I trained them. Hanneman also gave me the records of the aptitude results of the cadet officers from the entrance exams for me to review so I could create my own plans on how to instruct them based on their strengths and weaknesses. Then things took an odd turn.

"Say, while you're still here, would allow me to test you for a crest?" He asked. "It's standard procedure for new professors."

"I highly doubt I have a crest, but go ahead," I placed my hand under the crest-testing scope he had on his desk.

"I wouldn't discount the notion entire, crests have been found in surprising places," Hanneman said as he began channeling mana into the scope. "In fact, Sir Seteth's sister has- _what's this?!_"

"What?" I looked at the graph beneath the scope that was projecting ultraviolet light through my hand.

A very strange crest pattern had formed on the graph.

"Huh? Is that. . . _mine?_" I said in bewilderment.

Hanneman leaned forward and scrutinized it closely. "A pattern I've never seen before. . . could it be an as-of-yet undiscovered crest? This is astounding!"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, hold up!" I pulled my hand from the scope, though the picture still remained. "How on earth would I just happen to have an undiscovered crest? Are you sure the scope isn't just defective?"

"The method doesn't lie," Hanneman shook his head as he took the graph from under the scope. "That's definitely a crest, though the pattern is asymmetrical so it is likely an incomplete picture. I'll have to examine it some more and search for any matches."

"But I've been a mercenary my whole life. How would it not have awakened in combat by now?" _'Especially back in Remire.'_

"That would typically be the case, but crests are tricky entities. Some can stay dormant for years before awakening, and some have only been awakened under very specific circumstances. It depends on the individual, really."

"But how can I just have an undiscovered crest like that?"

"Crests are part of genetics, as such they are subject to change and can end up in the strangest of places. The Scripture also doesn't give a specific number to the crests gifted by the Goddess. But as I said, the pattern is likely incomplete so it may just be part of a bigger whole."

Just then a knock came from his office door and Manuela entered with a cyan-haired girl next to her.

"Excuse me, Hanneman, Marianne is ready."

"Oh, yes! Forgive me, I had forgotten," he said as he stood from his desk.

"You'll have to excuse us, professor," he said to me. "Manuela and I need to. . . speak with Marianne in confidentiality. Why don't we talk again when I have more information?"

"Um, okay."

And so I collected the papers on my cadets, stood up from my chair, and saw myself out.

"Hello, Marianne," I said to her as I walked past.

"H-hello, professor," she didn't even make eye-contact with me, mainly staring towards the ground like she was walking to her execution.

"Everything will be okay, dear, I promise." Manuela tried to comfort her cadet as she closed the office door behind her.

I found it odd that Manuela would seek out Hanneman's help for an issue regarding one of her cadets, given their normal bickering. But whatever was going on with Marianne was none of my business so I started walking to the officer library on the same floor to start reviewing the records of my own cadets.

_'I thought I had sensed a crest within you back in Remire, how interesting,' _said Sothis.

_'How did you not know it for sure already?'_

She frowned. _'I may be inside your consciousness but I can only truly know what you __know. I can't even see back into your memories unless you allow me to.'_

_'At least you respect what little privacy I have now.'_

_'You're hilarious.'_

_'Thank you. But. . . I wonder. . . '_

_'Wonder what?'_

_'Does Jeralt know?'_

* * *

For whatever reason, I never asked Jeralt about it. Maybe because I focused on my new role as a teacher or maybe because I intuitively expected him to dodge any question that was even remotely related to my origins, as he always did. Now that it was time for the mock battle, however, I did what I always did when marching into combat, clear my mind of all distracting thoughts.

Spirits were high as the cadets marched to the training area designated as Battlefield Beta, ready for the first major test of the school year. True to their proud heritage, the Black Eagles jovially sang an Imperial Adrestian Army marching song. Though Bernadetta was assuredly too skittish to sing and the foreign Petra may not have actually understood the idiomatic lyrics.

_A Heller and a Batzen _

_They were both mine, yes mine_

_The Heller was for water_

_The Batzen was for wine, yes wine_

_The Heller was for water_

_The Batzen was for wine_

_Heidi, heido, heida_

_Heidi, heido, heida_

_Heidi, heido, heida, ha ha ha ha ha ha ha_

With the sole exception of Felix, the Blue Lions decided to respond with a Faerghian marching song.

_Hey, here's a some wurst, here's some wurst, here's some wurst_

_For the Dagdans, knights, and Leicester troops_

_For the Sreng, there's no more_

_For the Sreng, there's no more_

_They're a bunch of lazy shirkers_

_For the Sreng, there's no more_

_For the Sreng, there's no more_

_They're a bunch of lazy shirkers_

Not wanting to be outdone by either house, Claude began leading the Golden Deer in a call-and-response cadence. The prim and proper House Sergeant Lorenz couldn't help but scowl at his House Leader for what they sang.

_"A yellow bird!"_

**_"A yellow bird!"_**

_"With a yellow bill!"_

**_"With a yellow bill!"_**

_"Was sitting on. . . "_

**_"Was sitting on. . . "_**

_"My window sill!"_

**_"My window sill!"_**

_"I lured him in!"_

**_"I lured him in!"_**

_"With a piece of bread!"_

**_"With a piece of bread!"_**

_"And then I stomped his-" _stomp, _"l__ittle head!"_

**_"And then I stomped his-" _**stomp, _**"little head!"**_

_"Oh, look at me!"_

**_"Oh, look at me!"_**

_"I'm such a klutz!"_

**_"I'm such a klutz!"_**

_"I missed his head!"_

**_"I missed his head!"_**

_"And I crushed his nuts!"_

**_"And I crushed his nuts!"_**

I don't imagine the animal-loving Marianne liked that cadence.

Battlefield Beta was large enough for a few battalions to perform exercises. It was fairy enclosed, surrounded on multiple sides by hills and peppered with patches of woods. A small structure of stone ruins sat in the northeastern corner. The battle-space was also surrounded by mana-absorbing onyx crystals to inhibit the lethality of spells and each house had a full platoon of Holy Knights on standby to nullify magic and provide healing. Once in the field, Hanneman, Manuela, and I cast dice to decide the fighting positions for each house. The Black Eagles got the stone ruins and the Golden Deer got the small, wooded knoll in the center. I cast the unluckiest roll, so my cadets had to situate themselves in the least defensible position on the southern side of the field between two patches of woods along the road that ran through the length of the field.

The Blue Lions were naturally not thrilled about fighting there but assembled their battle line all the same. Dimitri, Dedue, Felix, Sylvain, and Ingrid all commanded the heavy infantry. Dimitri's platoon held the center, Felix's platoon on his left and Dedue's platoon on his right. Sylvain's platoon guarded the left flank while Ingrid guarded the right. Ashe's light infantry platoon formed the forward skirmish line. Annette stood behind the line with her black magic section and the white magic section under Mercedes was spread out across the rear of the platoons. All three houses had half an hour to prepare their lines and their plans, not nearly enough time ideally but the purpose was to put the cadets under pressure. And so, as their acting advisor, I called the Blue Lion officers to the back of the formation spread the battlefield map out on the ground as they gathered around.

"Alright, before creating the battle plan, let's start by analyzing what we already know," I said. "The Black Eagles hold the ruins in the northeastern corner and the Golden Deer have the knoll right where the road bends. In other words, the Black Eagles have the most naturally defensible position and the Golden Deer can effectively control the primary travel avenue of the field, both of which pose a disadvantage to you. As you all can plainly see, our position on this road is not the greatest place to defend. How do you want to proceed, House Leader?"

Dimitri merely had to glance at the map before he made his command decision.

"I think the most favorable course of action is to attack the Golden Deer and seize the knoll in order to gain more favorable ground. That way, we will control the road and the Black Eagles will have difficulty outflanking us."

Felix rolled his eyes. "A frontal assault on an elevated position. How ingenious."

Ingrid gave him the look of a very disappointed mother. "_Tactful cooperation_, Felix."

"In spite of his lack of tact, he does actually bring up a valid point. A frontal attack on high ground is a risky course of action that Claude would expect. And while the Black Eagles have a strong defense, to attack the Deer frontally would expose your right flank, and you can't be certain that the Eagles won't attempt to exploit that."

Ingrid frowned in consideration of the possible danger her flank-guarding platoon would face.

"What would you say then, Professor?"

"Take a closer look at the map," I tapped the knoll. "See how the woodline roughly forms a reverse 'L' shape? That actually gives the Deer a significant advantage, one leg is facing south our direction and the other is east on the road not far from the Eagles' position. If either of us attack them, we'll have natural obstacles on two sides. _But_, the western side of the knoll has no natural obstacles." I traced my finger left around the knoll's southern woodline to its open west side. "It's a wide swing, but you might be able to turn their western flank if you move fast enough."

"Wouldn't that also leave us open to a flank attack?" Said Sylvain.

Everyone glanced at him as if not expecting him to speak.

"What? He shrugged. "It could happen."

"He's right, actually. Should you choose that course of action, you will have to move fast and keep pressing forward, even if the Deer attack you in the open. And since Lysithea's black mages hold the high ground you _will _be vulnerable to resonant spells if your advance stalls. And if Edelgard decides to attack you while you're moving, she may send her own mages out front to break up your formation with their own spells. Either way, Mercedes will need to have countermeasures ready and Ingrid will need to be prepared to turn and guard the flank."

"My section should be able to weave _Nullify_ spells long enough to cover the distance of the field," said Mercedes.

"And the mages in my section can definitely cast resonant spells on the move," Annette confidently added.

"But the distance will be completely different depending on what approach you take," I said. "The map distance is about five hundred feet straight but a curve will increase it. I would say your safest option in that regard will be a bounding guard." Meaning that one group of platoons would rush forward then pause to allow their white mages to cast a resonant _Nullify _spell around the area, then the other platoons would rush past them and halt to allow their own white mages to do the same. This way the mages would be able to concentrate their spells more effectively without having to run-and-cast, which would drain mana. "For that I would say move no more than a hundred paces at a time."

"That will be complex to swing wide all the way around the southern woodline with a bounding guard," Dimitri rubbed his chin in thought.

"My skirmishers would still have to move ahead fast to screen the company's movement," said Ashe.

"And Leonie is familiar with Sir Jeralt's playbook," I said. "So I'd be willing to bet that she might lead her infantry to split your skirmish line when you get close to the trees, then the main body will be open. But your plan of movement is up to you. You have the final decision, Your Highness."

Just then a red firework flare sparked over the field, indicating that the preparation period was over.

"We don't have any more time," I said as I rolled up the map. "What will you do, House Leader?"

"We go wide for the Golden Deer's left flank," said Dimitri. "Ashe, Sylvain, Felix, and I will bound first, then Dedue, Annette, and Ingrid. Mercedes, split your section five-by-five to each group. My group will move a hundred paces forward, then Dedue will lead the rest a hundred paces past us, and so on until we reach the knoll. Maintain original line composition as we move. Does everyone understand?"

Dedue and Felix gave quite nods, the rest gave words of affirmation.

"Then let us advance. _Sons of Loog!"_

**_"King of Lions!"_**

Then the Blue Lion officers disbanded to their platoons and the mock battle began.

To say I wasn't satisfied with the performance of my cadets would be an understatement.

* * *

**Fun fact, the songs and cadences in this chapter are real, albeit slightly modified to make sense in-universe. The yellow bird one is my favorite (seriously, look it up, it's darkly hilarious).**

**Sorry again to keep you waiting for the actual battle. But never fear, part 2 is still on the way and roughly halfway done.**


	6. Lion Cubs (Part 2)

**Warning: Chapter contains a lot of coarse language.**

* * *

**Lion Cubs (Part 2)**

Jeralt used to say that no plan survives contact with the enemy. In practical terms, he meant that soldiers have to be adaptable enough to rapidly change their course of action to any situation. In this case, the Blue Lion's plan fell apart almost immediately.

To be fair, they initially managed to execute their order of movement fairly well. They wheeled their line to the left like an swinging door, off from the road and into the open space between the trees on the road's left side and the wooded knoll where the Golden Deer waited. Just as planned, they split their line into two elements and executed their bounding guard accordingly. As Dimitri led one element and Dedue led the other, their platoon's respective standard bearers blasted the signals for advance and halt. Dimitri's element bounded forward, halted at a hundred paces, then Mercedes and the attached white mages chained their mana glyphs together to blanket their immediate vicinity with a resonant _Nullify _spell. Dedue's element mirrored the action after bounding ahead of Dimitri's element. Each _Nullify _spell protected the opposite element from hostile spells as they bounded forward. That was the team dynamic of a bounding guard.

I observed both elements as I stayed at Dimitri's side, watching as the cadet officers shouted instructions to keep their platoons aligned. I had to admit I was a bit impressed by how the Blue Lions initially conducted their advance. A bounding guard is a complicated maneuver for any echelon of professional soldiers, yet these cadets were able to execute it relatively smoothly despite having only recently received an introductory level of military training in the academy's entrance exams. And all it took to break their momentum was for the Golden Deer to react.

Dimitri's element had just bounded past Dedue's element and halted to cast their spell when a Deer platoon came rushing out of the woodline. The Lion company echoed with the warning, _"Contact, right!"_ Dimitri, Ashe, Sylvain, and Felix reacted slowly to seeing the charging adversaries.

"What the hell?" I said to myself, a single platoon attacking a full company made no sense.

"_Shield-wall!_" Dimitri shouted as he, Sylvain, and Felix tried to wheel their platoons around. Ashe's skirmishers ran to their left, the white mages held their _Nullify _spell.

I looked back and saw the rear element rushing forward to counter-attack the Deer. Then I stepped back and watched as Dimitri's standard bearer blasted the signal for shield-wall and the multiple cadet elements crashed into each other. For a while it was impossible to tell exactly what was happening. I was simply surrounded by a horde of cadets who were yelling, shoving, and hacking at their rivals with their wooden training weapons. The Lion black mages launched spells over the heads of their comrades to break up the Deer platoon's formation. The white mages nullified any retaliation. It was nowhere near the vicious, bloody carnage of real combat, but certainly chaotic. The single Deer platoon was horrendously outnumbered, boxed in by the entire Lion company, and I could already see the Holy Knights pulling away the 'dead' cadets with fake blood splattered all over their training vests. I could tell from the angle of Dedue's approach that his element had hit them on their flank as they clashed with Dimitri's element, allowing the Lions to trap them on two sides.

Soon the raucous yelling dulled to a low roar as the Deer platoon was wiped out and the brawl was over as soon as it started. Their defeated members slipped through the ranks of the Lion platoons as they were escorted off the battlefield to the casualty collection points by the Holy Knights, along with a few defeated Lions. I could see the giddy looks on the faces of the Lion cadets as they laughed and slapped each other's backs in celebration of their little victory. Indeed they had reacted well to the spontaneous adversarial assault. Now that the Deer platoon was melting away, I could even see that Ashe's skirmishers had circled them from behind to further box them in. I saw Lorenz among his fellow cadets, fake blood all over his brigandine, he obviously wasn't pleased with his crushing defeat but didn't seem as furious as I would have expected. That was only one hint that something wasn't right.

Then the standard bearer blasted the call for forward advance, but I just then noticed a Black Eagle vanguard moving down the road. Seeing them caused the sketchy conditions of this little skirmish to click in my mind. I knew right away that things were about to go south. I pushed through the crowd to Dimitri's standard bearer where he was already trying to reestablish order among his house.

"Your Highness, what are you doing?!" I shouted over the voices of all other cadets.

"Professor! We've drastically reduced their strength, we should strike now while the iron is hot!"

"By advancing _forward?!_"

"Their line is surely weakened now, a swift frontal assault should break it!"

"Your right flank is _exposed to__ the road_! Do you not see the Black Eagles heading this way?"

"If we move now, we can reach the treeline before they reach us!"

"You're being reckless! You send the company up that knoll and you _will _expose your flank and the formation _will _break apart if you push too fast through the trees! You're best option at this point is to circle and defend!"

"But Professor, we just wiped out an entire Deer platoon thanks to Lorenz's rash actions, Claude is surely scrambling to re-arrange his line! I truly believe we can win this right now!"

"Your Highness, think about this! Why would Lorenz just attack you out in the open with his single platoon? You didn't even get hit with a spell attack from Lysithea!"

"I don't see you're point, Professor," he frowned.

"You're being played! Lorenz isn't brilliant, but he's not stupid, he wouldn't have just attacked with no support. Claude is trying to draw you in where the Eagles will attack you!"

Of course, I had no way of knowing if that was actually what Claude was trying to do, the only other reasonable assumption I could think of was that Lorenz simply went rogue. Either way, the danger of being folded on two sides was very real, but the Prince didn't see it. He wasn't being incompetent or stupid, he was high on battle. As the leader, he had already succumbed to battle high to where he was so focused on one objective that he could no longer comprehended the bigger picture, a condition some knights called 'battle fixation'. Such instances usually heralded disastrous defeats. Dimitri's eyes darted between the knoll in front of us and the road to our right where the Eagles approached, but whatever thought process he had going through his mind was interrupted when Lysithea attacked. Mercedes' section sensed it before it hit.

**_"Incoming!"_ **They echoed the call down the line as they swiftly networked another _Nullify _field, their glyphs connecting through a chain of mana.

The mages sensed the mana ripple before a torrent of lighting bolts arced splashed on our position. The _Nullify _field dispersed the electric mana in multiple direction like rain hitting a dome. I wasn't a mage at the time but I knew from my years of combat that the bolts would have easily penetrated our very small counter-measure had it not been for the onyx crystals in around the battlefield. Dimitri stared up into the air where the spells had clashed, momentarily stunned.

"What are we doing, House Leader?!" I shouted as I grabbed his shoulder. "Move in a direction, we can't stay here!"

And then Mercedes and Annette ran up behind us.

"Your Highness, we can't keep this up!" Mercedes shouted as she held her glyph above her head, her forehead glistened with sweat.

"My section can't re-harness!" Annette reported.

Lightning spells require the caster to create an ionized path for the lighting to follow. Mages who react quickly enough can use the residual mana to re-harness those ionized pathways and cast lightning back. The fact that Annette's section couldn't re-harness the mana from Lysithea's section for an accurate counter-spell told me that Marianne's section were effectively utilizing magic defense. Mages defend against re-harnessing by nullifying or dampening the mana in their vicinity; nullifying reduces or blocks the concentrated power of spells and dampening reduces accuracy by spreading spell energy across wider areas.

In other words, Lysithea and Marianne were already in control of the magic battle.

The Blue Lion officers didn't seem to pick up on the danger they were in when they all left their platoons and crowded around the standard.

"What the hell are you doing, boar?! We need to keep moving!" Felix yelled.

"Your Highness, permission to take the skirmishers to the left!" said Ashe.

"Let me go with him!" said Sylvain.

"We need to get closer for spells!" Annette shouted.

"We can't hold this..." said Mercedes.

"Dimitri! We need to block the road, the Black Eagles are bearing down on us!" Ingrid shouted.

"Your Highness, we should seek cover!" said Dedue.

"**_Hey! Hey! Calm down! All of you!_**" I shouted over all of their voices. "Analyze your surroundings and communicate clearly!"

Another resonant lightning spell thundered above us, and was dispersed by the _Nullify_ field. I glanced at a visibly strained Mercedes, who was having to overcompensate her glyph for the onyx crystals, Annette created her own glyph to assist her. Taking into account the mana-absorbing crystals, I wagered that Lysithea's mages could cast maybe two or three more spells before needing to regenerate mana.

"Make a decision, House Leader!" I said to Dimitri.

The hot-blooded prince swept his eyes around everyone then settled his gaze firmly at the knoll's treeline, and it was clear that his mind was already made up. Battle fixation.

"We can't stay here, we're going to advance! Company wedge, break right through the Deer line and we'll control the field!"

The Lion officers all hesitated, glancing at each other.

_"Shake a leg! You're House Leader just gave you an order!"_ I yelled.

They immediately dispersed, though Felix notably glanced back at Dimitri with a piercing glare. In fact, I did not agree with Dimitri's plan either, but officers can never hesitate in the heat of battle.

_'This is going so well,' _Sothis snark.

_'Shut the fuck up.'_

Upon Dimitri's command, the standard-bearer blasted the call to form wedge. The Blue Lion platoons attempted to angularly align themselves off of Dimitri's platoon like bird's wings. Then disaster struck. Lightning flared across the _Nullify _field with intensity. Annette's mages finally gained their footing and quickly retaliated with a resonant lightning spell of their own, their bolts arced up and forward into the trees. But the bolts arced in multiple directions across the intended target zone, indicating an adversarial _Nullify _field. The Deer cadets still had very adequate concealment in the trees as their movements could just barely be observed, any distant spells Annette's section could cast certainly would not hit with great accuracy. Just as the standard-bearer called for advancement, another lightning torrent flared above us, but the bolts only partially dispersed and multiple Lion cadets were hit by the electrical fingers and temporarily immobilized. I looked over at Mercedes to see her collapsed on a knee, struggling to catch her breath.

_'Are you fucking serious, Martritz?' _I incredulously thought to myself.

_'Surely you don't expect her to not be fatigued from those spells," _said Sothis.

_'Bullshit, I've fought alongside parish boys with more endurance than her!'_

It was extremely fortunate that the Holy Knights were employing their own mana dampening, otherwise there would have been a dozen fatalities right there. Worse than that, the Black Eagles now had a black mage section within striking distance, either Hubert's or Dorothea's. Annette and Mercedes were in imminent danger of being overpowered and then it would all fall apart. A tactical retreat at this point would only spell total destruction and attempting to outflank the Golden Deer now only leave us exposed on two sides. The only fighting chance left was the near-suicidal charge Dimitri resolved.

_'This is fucking ridiculous,' _I inwardly growled.

_'Watch the right wing, you're about to be flanked!' _Sothis warned.

Just as she said that, the Black Eagle vanguard veered off the road and broke straight into a wedged charge for the Blue Lion's right wing. Some of Annette's mages cast fire spells in their direction but it was not nearly enough to penetrate their _Nullify _field. Then I saw something that actually bewildered me. Ingrid's platoon on the far-right starting breaking off from the company formation and turned in the Black Eagle's direction.

_**"Ingrid, stop!" **_I yelled as I rushed towards them, but there was too much noise for her to hear me.

The noise became greater when the Eagle cadets quickly reformed from column and wedge collectively raised the "Eagle Scream", the patented war cry of the Imperial Adrestian Army. Mages with even basic wind magic knowledge could manipulate small wind tunnels to make this savage, high-pitched war cry actually sound similar to a flock of screaming buzzards, and the Black Eagles effectively let it out when they charged. All order broke down on the right flank as Ingrid clashed with the Eagles. I couldn't clearly see the fighting from the back, but her platoon clearly had no semblance of a formation, and they had just opened up a gap between them and Dedue's platoon to the front left. Eagle cadets started pouring into the gap, and at the head of the charge was a howling Caspar who lunged into Dedue's platoon, breaking through their formation like a berserker high on agaric. The Blue Lion's entire right wing was now compromised and I ran past Dedue's crumbling platoon to warn Dimitri. Their entire formation was in complete disarray as a result of being hit on their flank in mid-movement. Practically, there was little if not anything that could be done at this point. Once a flank is broken in the chaos of battle it takes nothing short of divine intervention to avert total disaster. But something compelled me to act.

Suddenly, the sky flashed bright with lighting currents as Lysithea's section unleashed a massive resonant _Thundercrack _spell, a non-lethal lightning technique meant to disorient and terrorize the enemy. The blinding flash and deafening thunder clap in close proximity scrambled the senses of the entangled cadets, many of whom stumbled and even fell over each other. Blue Lions and Black Eagles alike were disoriented by the shock-and-awe, and the advancing Lion elements lost all momentum. Being a veteran, I only had to blink a few times and shake my head a little to negate the effects. But then, through the ringing in my ears, I could hear another war cry rising up and then saw the Golden Deer banners emerge from the treeline. And Claude attacked. The entire Golden Deer company charged down the slope of the knoll and crashed head-on into the mass of Lions and Eagles. A gap somehow opened in the Blue Lion's line, and the Deer cadets poured into it. There was no saving Blue Lions with their formation broken in two places. But I couldn't just stand there and watch.

I drew my training sword and ran straight into the mob of cadets, shoving past many of my own. The Golden Deer broke both Lion's formation and their own as they attacked, yellow gambesons mixing among blue in the melee. Even red-clad Eagles wildly stormed through the giant gaggle, assaulting everyone that wasn't their own. I saw Ferdinand rush past me and spear a Lion to the ground before another tackled him. Caspar locked eyes with me in the midst of his rampage and swung his axe in both hands. I easily blocked the wild blow and struck his head so hard that I knocked his helmet off and he stumbled away. A Deer girl charged at me but I ducked low as she got close then scooped her legs up and dropped her over my shoulder. The Blue Lions melted away all around me, many were defeated but some appeared to just retreat.

_**"Hold the line! Hold the line!" **_I knowingly shouted to no avail.

Through the chaos, I saw Dimitri brawling Raphael bare-handed. Raphael was trapping the Prince's left arm with his own and tried to pull him into a choke with his right arm. Dimitri struggled in vain to wrest the larger man's arm from his neck with is free hand. When he couldn't, he leaned into Raphael and punched him hard in the face. And again. Raphael's grip weakened and Dimitri broke free, grabbed him, and drove his knee into his midsection. Raphael doubled over in pain. Dimitri punched him face-first to the ground, then pounced on him like a lion attacking a bear and locked him in a rear-naked choke. Blood gushed from Raphael's nose as he struggled to break free.

And before I could take another step to break them up, a golden flare flew over the battlefield, followed by a trumpet call. I froze in my tracks, because the Blue Lions had lost.

_"Damnit!"_

It took a moment for peace to be established as gaggles of cadets untangled from each other, Holy Knights had to break up a few brawls, but soon the Golden Deer cadets broke out in joyful cheers. They had just defeated nearly half of the Black Eagles and wiped out the entirety of the Blue Lion house in one fell swoop. As if to add insult to injury, the house standard had even been captured by Hilda of all people. The biggest shammer in the academy had scored the glorious prize while Dimitri had been distracted and allowed his standard-bearer to be defeated.

"Hilda! Hilda!" The pink-haired girl gleefully waved her battle trophy as her platoon ecstatically celebrated around her.

"_Blue Lions, fall back! Blue Lions, fall back!_" Dimitri stood up straight and shouted the order to his house, he even helped a dazed Raphael to his feet as though he had not just broken his nose and nearly choked him out.

All around me the few Lion cadets trickled back south as the Eagle's returned to their own position where the rest of their comrades still were. The casualties who had been pulled away by the Holy Knights gingerly walked back with their comrades. I spotted each of the officers moving back with them in, Annette was helping Mercedes. And I simply stood in place and watched the Eagle and Lion houses concede the field to the joyous Golden Deer and their wily house leader.

"Professor? Are you coming?" Dimitri's voice snapped me out of my stupor.

"Yes, just get to the rally point, I'll be their momentarily," I said.

He just nodded and left with Dedue at his side. He walked straight like an officer, but his disheartenment couldn't be any more obvious. I stood in place for a few moments more to make sure no Blue Lion cadets were left behind but my eyes lingered on the site of Claude and the other Golden Deer officers celebrating their crushing victory. Though it appeared that Claude was already trying reorganize them to continue their offensive.

I couldn't understand why at the time, but there was something about watching the Golden Deer celebrate their victory over us that burned in my skin.

* * *

The march back to the monastery was uncomfortable to say the least. The Blue Lions barely spoke to each other the whole way. Not much noise came from the Black Eagle's formation either, even though they had not been whipped nearly as badly as my cadets. Once he was done with my house, Claude turned the Golden Deer around and battered Edelgard into submission in the ruins, but I didn't bother to watch. I was too pissed.

Claude naturally made the mood worse for the other houses as he continuously led the Golden Deer in increasingly juvenile Leicesterish cadences. By the time we marched into the academy courtyard they didn't even rhyme.

_"Around, her neck, she wore a studded collar!"_

**_"Around, her neck, she wore a studded collar!"_**

_"She wore it in the springtime, in the early Harpstring Moon!"_

**_"She wore it in the springtime, in the early Harpstring Moon!"_**

_"And if, you asked, her why the hell she wore it. . . "_

**_"And if, you asked, her why the hell she wore it. . . "_**

_"She wore it for a noble who was into whips and chains!"_

**_"She wore it for a noble who was into whips and chains!"_**

_"Whips and chains!"_

**_"Whips and chains!"_**

_"Whips and chains!"_

**_"Whips and chains!"_**

_"She wore it for a noble who was into whips and chains!"_

**_"She wore it for a noble who was into whips and chains!"_**

That particular cadence elicited scowling from Lorenz, blushing from Marianne and Ignatz, chuckling from Leonie and Raphael, and confused looks from Lysithea, the only one too young to get it.

"Do those fools have any sense of decency?" said Felix.

"Even I'm not into that stuff," said Sylvain.

Ingrid scoffed. "And yet you once came on to my sweet, sweet _granny._"

"Ingrid, I was _twelve_ you can't still reasonably be holding that over my head."

"Oh, I think it's a _perfect _testament to your character, especially with all the _flowers_ you've been so ravenously taking around here!"

"You're exaggerating, I just have a lot of lady friends," Sylvain tried to cooly brush it off but he was plainly uncomfortable with Ingrid's slanderous implication.

Mercedes immediately tried to cool the situation. "Now, Ingrid, we're all disappointed with today, but-"

"Then who was that girl I saw sneaking into your room the other night?! Should we be on the lookout for baby Gautiers?! Maybe that's why you reacted so slowly today, you've been draining yourself!"

"That's not what happened!" Sylvain insisted.

_"Then what the fuck was she doing in there?!"_

"Ingrid, stop!" Mercedes exclaimed.

"Maybe we would've had a better chance of winning the mock battle if you practiced more with a real sword instead of your _other _sword!"

"Maybe we would all perform better if you weren't such an overbearing bitch, Ingrid," Felix said without even looking at her.

_"Excuse me?"_

"Or it wouldn't have been such a disaster if you hadn't broken your own platoon's formation and allowed the Black Eagles to effortlessly wipe you out. _Brilliant _tactics."

Ingrid tried to retort, but she could only stutter and blush in frustration.

"You're one to talk, Felix," Ashe frowned. "You also broke the formation when you tried to lead that counter-charge, scattered my skirmishers too. You have equal blame for acting so rashly."

"Is it rash to actually fucking _attack _the enemy and attrit their advance instead of waiting for them to hit us like crippled bitches? Especially in our vulnerable position?"

"It is when you open a gap in the _whole damn line_, Felix," said Sylvain.

"Then maybe we shouldn't have made a frontal attack on a _elevated position_, or at least had mages who can do their jobs," Felix glanced at Annette.

"I. . . I'm sorry," the orange-haired girl looked like she was about to cry.

"That's uncalled for, Felix!" said Mercedes.

"_Friends_, it's been a frustrating day for all of us," Dimitri intervened. "But it is _not _right to unleash it on each other."

"You're the one who ordered that foolhardy attack, boar," said Felix. "Don't try to cover your ass."

Dedue glowered at him. "Refer to His Highness as a boar one more time and I will separate your tongue from your head."

_"I'd love to see you try you goat-fucking lapdog!"_

The others stopped and gasped. Dedue turned to Felix with eyes that were burning with rage. And my last nerve finally snapped.

**_"All of you shut your fucking faces!"_**

Everyone in the courtyard froze.

Dimitri then spoke up. "Professor, as House Leader I profusely apologize for-"

"What part of 'shut your face' is not fucking Faerghian, Your Highness? In case you jackasses haven't noticed, you've managed to put on quite the melodramatic show in front of the _entire fucking school."_

It was only then that the Lion officers looked around them and saw that all eyes in the courtyard were fixed on them. The hourly bells rang in the Goddess Tower.

"Enough bullshit, you all have two hours to dismiss your platoons, get cleaned up, and be in the classroom, in your dress blacks, ready to discuss what happened today. Dismissed."

They dispersed to their platoons without another word to each other. The rest of the cadets in the courtyard were still entranced by what had just happened and intently stared at my cadets as they attempted to pull themselves together and go about their work.

"_Why the hell are you all still staring at them?! Mind your own damn business!"_

* * *

Mercedes, Annette, and Ingrid did not even look in my direction when we all washed up in the women's bathhouse. I could palpably sense their humiliation without having to see their faces. Cadets from the other houses seemed to avoid all of us like the plague. I knew the debriefing would be even more uncomfortable than the spontaneous ass-chewing I had hit them with in front of everyone.

I took my time changing into my black-and-silver cadre uniform back in my room. Being a cadre at a military academy gave me a personal luxury I had never had before in that I actually had my own vanity and mirror. It felt a bit odd to look directly at myself, I had seem my distorted reflection in water before but rarely in a clear mirror. It never really dawned on me how my skin was much more beaten and weathered than that of most women my age, particularly the noble girls here at the academy who had grown up in lives of comfort. I supposed even most commoner women were not normally exposed to the same kind of living I had grown up in. Never traveled across polar-opposite climates. Never lived in the wilderness for weeks at a time. Never warily waded out of a battlefield covered head to toe in a film of sweat, mud, and blood, not all of it yours. I didn't even know exactly how old I was, but I was certainly barely older than most of my cadets. Yet my life was fundamentally different from theirs. But they needed to be able to adapt to this life, if not for their sakes then for their kingdom.

_'You're wondering how you can guide these cadets into lives as military officers?' _Sothis asked.

_'Someone has to, Faerghus has few commanders left and the three leading houses have no other heirs besides Mister Gautier, Mister Fraldarius, and the Prince.'_

_'Why are you only now referring to them by their family names? Didn't Dimitri say you that you didn't have to be so formal with them?'_

_'I was too comfortable with them and fostered an ill-disciplined environment, and this is the result. And His Highness is so far above me that I'll certainly never be able to comfortably call him by his given name.'_

Sothis smiled. _'Are you willing to wager on that?'_

_'Wager what exactly, you're inside my head.'_

_'Just a thought.'_

With that, I draped my long gambeson over my shoulders, picked up my notebook and walked out.

My first order of business was to review the mock battle with Seteth, Jeralt, Manuela, and Hanneman in our cadre conference room. And I wish I could say I was surprised by the results. Claude had accurately anticipated the other houses moves, created contingencies, quickly reacted to changes, and played everyone like a calculating chess-master. It seemed the future Grand Duke of the Leicester Alliance was a natural born leader. The only disunity of Claude's command was Lorenz ignoring his plan and attempting to flank-attack the Blue Lions, but Claude had simply adapted his strategy to that and allowed my cadets to play right into his hands.

I knew the results would not go over well with the Blue Lions officers. I could hear their heated arguing emanating from our classroom before I even reached the door.

_'This is going to be pleasant,' _I sarcastically thought to myself.

_'Perhaps try control your temper this time, they are in collective distress after all," _said Sothis.

_'They're collectively dragging each other down, and they need to fix it. I can't just do it for them.'_

I opened the door, and an instant hush fell over the cadets. Saying nothing, I walked to my desk and placed my notebook down.

"House Leader, are all officers accounted for?" I rhetorically asked Dimitri.

"Yes, ma'am."

"Very good, I have evaluated the mock battle with cadre, now the class is going to review," I opened my notebook. "What is your account on what happened, Your Highness?"

"Professor, we. . . made our plan to attack to Golden Deer on the knoll. Our intent was to swing around their flank, but then they suddenly attacked and our plan. . . went awry."

"That's putting it mildly. _How_ exactly did that happen?"

Dimitri shifted uncomfortably. "It would seem that either Lorenz saw an opportunity to strike our flank as we moved, or it may have been Claude's plan."

"I can commend you for reacting to that, but any company should be able to crush a single platoon. What happened next?"

"We starting to receive resonant lightning spells, hence I ascertained that we needed to change our approach."

"Let's go back to the spells. Miss Dominic, why exactly was your section unable to re-harness the lightning?"

"I. . . don't know, Professor," she looked down at her desk.

"What do you mean you don't know? You're the subject matter expert of black magic in the class. The only explanations are Marianne's counter-measures overpowered you or you simply didn't react fast enough to re-harness the mana before it dissipated, neither reason is a mark of a good mage leader."

Annette's eyes became glued to her desk.

"Professor, the true fault is on me for how my section responded," said Mercedes. "We-"

"Don't even get me started with you, Miss Martritz. I understand that you were compensating for the onyx crystals, but no combat mage should ever burn out that fast in a battle. I know military application of magic isn't the primary focus of the Royal School of Sorcery, but you have no excuse for lacking endurance to such a degree. Your comrades rely on _you _to guard against enemy magic and their deaths will be on your head if you can't do that."

Mercedes didn't look down at her desk, but I could see string of my words in her eyes.

"But that was just the beginning. Lorenz did in fact act on his own when he attacked you, but Claude simply used it to his advantage. Edelgard was also trying to draw you to her by sending that vanguard under Ferdinand, Caspar, and Dorothea. Thanks to that, Claude saw an opportunity to defeat you all and you plaid right into his hands. All he had to do was have Lysithea's section hit you with spells and you did exactly what he wanted you to. Once the Black Eagles hit your right wing they completely stalled your momentum, made all the worse by the fact that Miss Galatea's platoon _broke away_ from the company and opened up the entire wing."

Ingrid immediately stood up. "Professor, please let me explain-"

_"Sit. Down."_

She looked at me as though I had just slapped her then sat back down.

"It does not matter what your intentions were, Miss Galatea, the fact of the matter is that you compromised company's flank. And once the Black Eagles saw that, they exploited it for all it was worth. That greatly contributed to the conditions Claude was trying to create. He wanted both of your houses to become entangled so he could wipe you out in one strike."

"She may have been foolish, but it was the boar's decision to expose us like that to begin with," said Felix. "We could have won if he hadn't set us up for failure."

Dimitri said nothing but Dedue glared daggers at Felix from across the room.

"Who the _hell_ do you think you are, Mister Fraldarius?" His comment actually angered me. "The commander may bear the ultimate responsibility of decision, but an army is only as strong as the sum of its parts. Can you really say without a shred of doubt that you would've won otherwise? War is _not _a game of absolutes, no plan is ever executed to perfection. Even poorly conceived plans have succeeded thanks to the actions of subordinates, but you certainly did not help your house as such when you also opened up the line and allowed the Golden Deer to pour through. Just like Miss Galatea, you completely failed to coordinate with your house and they paid the price for it."

Felix just stared back at me stone-faced.

"But it still plays back into your decision, Your Highness," I said to Dimitri. "When faced with a difficult decision, you became too fixated on a single objective that you failed to see the bigger picture. In your bullheaded desire to seize that knoll, you exposed your entire company to an unnecessary risk. Such shortsightedness is extremely fatal to any army. The only action I can reasonably give you credit for was kicking Raphael Kirsten's ass, but even that was fucked up because you lost your weapon and your _shield_. Never, ever, lose your shield in combat. Even peasant levies know that."

Dimitri did not appear stone-faced by my words, his sky-blue eyes betrayed no anger at all. He just looked hurt.

"I received multiple reports from the Holy Knights of poor examples from all of you for varies small things like that, but I don't think it would be very productive in this case to examine everything individually because it all speaks to larger issue. This mock battle was an evaluation to determine how I will need to instruct you for the rest of the school year, and _a__ll _of the cadre who were present at the battle, including the Holy Knights, agreed that this house suffered the worst defeat. You utterly got your asses handed to you, pure and simple. And it was due in no small part to your collective lack of discipline and inability to function as a cohesive unit. We were supposed to begin our curriculum by jumping straight into leadership theory like the other houses, but it couldn't be more clear that you're not ready for that. Instead, with the Seneschal's blessing, I have made the decision to start your training all the way back from the basics of soldiering. You will drill just like the cadet soldiers until I deem you ready to move on to the advanced leadership studies."

Nobody could respond. Dimitri and Dedue blankly stared in shame. Sylvain's normal carefree demeanor was replaced by grave disappointment. Ingrid could only stare at the ground in frustration. Felix was silently fuming. Ashe and Mercedes were crestfallen. Annette once again looked like she was about to break down in tears.

"You all are supposed to be the Holy Kingdom's next generation of warrior leaders, the successors of Loog the Great. You were each judged against your Faerghian peers and deemed highly potential to be the upper echelon of the Royal Faerghian Army," I paused. "I expected much more from you. Your kingdom's army needs you to rise up and guide it in it's current eroded state, but you have a long way to go before you can ever do that. There is much work to be done before you can truly call yourself Lions."

Deafening silence filled in the room as the weight of my words hung over each of them.

"Ensure all of your cadets receive any aid they need and rest up for the day. We rise at dawn to begin combat training. Dismissed."

* * *

I did something monumental later that evening. I actually sought Jeralt's advice on how to be a teacher, the man who was not even particularly fond of the cadets. But there was no one else I knew with more practical wisdom than the man who made me what I was. As the sun began to set and the twilight bells rang over the town, I wandered into the tavern not far from the outer monastery gate. Jeralt was sitting at the bar, exactly as I expected him to. I noticed other members of the battalion were enjoying their evening in this watering hole with other men I suspected were new recruits, I had been detached from the battalion's activities since we had arrived here.

I sat next to Jeralt without a word and tossed a coin to the bartender for an ale. Jeralt just sipped his own drink for a moment before speaking.

"Don't think I've ever seen you explode like that before."

I sighed. "I didn't plan on that, I just. . . snapped."

"You should've seen the looks on their 'fucking faces'," he smirked.

I groaned. I knew he was just messing with me, but there was a point to it.

"That was a mistake on my part, they were being extremely unprofessional but I shouldn't have lost my bearing in front of the school like that. I think I just snapped because of what Mister Fraldarius said."

I wasn't really angered Felix's display of bigotry, that specific insult just brought back a particularly unpleasant memory.

Jeralt shrugged. "It wasn't entirely unwarranted, your cadets were being a bunch of jackasses in front of the entire damn school."

_'Goddess, when did I start talking like him?'_

_'Don't ask me,' _Sothis also shrugged.

_'I wasn't.'_

I sipped my drink whilst still contemplating my circumstances.

"I may have just started, but it's gonna take me a while to adjust to his whole 'teaching' thing," I said. "My cadets may be called the Blue Lions, but as far as I'm concerned, they're just cubs."

"You were just a cub too once," Jeralt smiled slightly and took a swig of his own drink.

"And what kind of teaching magic did you use on me?"

"You were different, I raised you into this life. You naturally molded into a mercenary from the beginning because this was all you ever knew, you were a blank slate. That's not what your cadets are. They may just be kids but they're each a product of their life experience, and they haven't had your upbringing. You can shape them into warriors but you can't just change who they are as individuals, you'll have to work with who they already are."

I sipped my drink again and simply thought to myself for a moment.

_'And what would I have to tell their parents if they die under my watch? The Princess almost took an axe in Remire. What would I do if something happens to the Prince?'_

I immediately shut that last thought out of my mind.

"I see what you mean," I said, "but to be honest, I expected more out of the Blue Lion officer class after reading their profiles and interacting with them over the past week. These aren't just some rich kids who got lucky, they _do __have_ documented talent. Miss Martritz and Miss Dominic are distinguished honor graduates of the Royal School of Sorcery, they came here with special recommendation from the Headmaster. Mister Gautier and Miss Galatea have the two highest cavalry aptitude scores in the entire school, Ingrid was even recommend for pegasus training." Few cadets at any military academy were selected for air cavalry training, arguably the most dangerous occupation a soldier could have. Garreg Mach took particular care in their precautions such that their pegasus riders were exclusively female, due to strict height and weight limits.

"Ashe Ubert's wilderness survival scores in the entrance exams were only surpassed by Leonie's," I continued speaking, "but he also scored the highest in scouting. And he's shockingly accurate with a bow for such a small boy." The average draw weight for a Fódlander warbow is close to a hundred pounds. "Meanwhile, Mister Fraldarius and Dedue Molinaro have some of the highest combatives scores, and the Prince was ranked number two in the school, just below Claude von Riegan. I'm not trying to raise these kids up from nothing, they each having something. Really, the main reason why I've decided to start with basic soldier training is to teach them to work together."

"Then take the time to foster their talents and identify their weaknesses," said Jeralt. "Learn everything you can about them. Open yourself up to them as a mentor and they will respond, I've already seen it in the way they interact with you."

"Is it really that simple? Was it even that simple to mentor a 'blank slate' like me?"

Jeralt chuckled. "You already know well that nothing is simple in practice, knowing who your cadets are will go a long way. It certainly helped me that I knew everything about you as I trained you."

_'Everything about me. . . everything.'_

I planted my cup on the bar and stared straight at him.

"So have you known about my crest this entire time?" I firmly asked.

His cup stopped just short of meeting his lips. "What?"

"Hanneman tested me for a crest after I decided to be their new professor. Apparently it's been dormant my whole life."

He just looked into my eyes and said nothing for a long moment.

"No," he said belatedly as he looked away. "I didn't know that for sure."

_'For sure? What the hell does that mean?' _

My mind flashed back to all of the instances in my life when he refused to speak of my origins, and all of those times I never complained. After a while, I had stopped wondering such things all together. I just accepted Jeralt's elusiveness and moved on, as though conceding that I would never learn who I truly was from him. But after learning what was flowing in my blood, I was finally growing sick of it.

"Jeralt," I frowned at him for the first time in years. "What are you not telling me?"

He stared into his ale, then looked back at me. His expression was blank, but I saw realization in his eyes. I was sure I saw a hint of pain as well.

"You're not gonna tell me?"

He still said nothing.

"How long are we gonna play this game, Jeralt? You've raised me my whole life, and can't you just tell me _who I am and where I came from?_" My words came out more forcefully than they had sounded in my head, so I immediately toned myself down. "And don't think I haven't noticed the way the Archbishop looked at me when we first met her, there's something that both of you know that you're not telling me."

"I won't tell you," he finally said. "You're not ready."

It was my turn to be bewildered.

"How in the _Valley of Torment _am I not ready to know? Is it because of Pierre?!" I irrationally blurted before I could stop myself.

"It has nothing to do with Pierre, Joachim, Paulus, or even Fedor."

I tried not to grimace at the mention of other platoon leaders who had died under my watch, the last of whom had been captured alive by Duscurite Zealots during an escort mission. Days later, we found his gelded, blinded, and flayed body handing upside down from a tree. I probably did grimace at that memory because Jeralt immediately softened his tone.

"Byleth, I have never lost faith in you," he put his hand on my shoulder. "I swear I'm only telling you this for your own good. You have accepted a new career as a teacher so you should clear your mind to focus on connecting with your students." He took his hand away. "And be wary of whatever Rhea tells you."

I said nothing else. I simply held his gaze for an uncomfortable moment, gulped down the rest of my drink, and walked out of the tavern while trying to ignore the concerned gazes of other Blade Breakers who had taken notice of the conversation.

I must have unconsciously allowed Sothis to see into my memories when they came rushing back. Because she didn't have any comments for once.

* * *

**Ugh, I did not enjoy writing the mock battle. It was hard for me to try and make it dramatic and visceral with no actual killing. At least there's only one more mock battle in the game though, and I plan on doing it differently. **

**Next Chapter: The students may know how to fight, but they don't yet know how to kill.**


	7. Killer Instinct (Part 1)

**Context notes: A tribune was a Roman officer rank held by young nobles who were trying to work their way up to the senate (as a political career required military service). They were essentially the most inexperienced personnel in a Roman army legion, only there to gain leadership experience. **

* * *

**Killer Instinct (Part 1)**

**_"Wake up!"_** I yelled for the whole Blue Lion dorm to hear.**_ "Rise and shine and give the Goddess the glory, children, it's time to train!"_**

And the early morning chaos began. Cyril started banging a stick on a metal pan, while the knight squires who were chosen to be the Blue Lions cadre swarmed the hall inside and out, bashing open doors, hungry for the delicious opportunity to drag the sleeping cadets out of their beds.

"Hate to interrupt your beauty sleep, ladies, but it's time to get your frilly rumps out bed!"

"You are taking _entirely_ too long, dipshit! You have _exactly_ to to the count of ten to get that fucking uniform on!"

"_Holy Mother Goddess_, cadet! Did you _seriously_ just try to run out here naked?! Cover up that pimply ass!"

_"Cadet! I am a heartbeat away from putting my boot up your ass if you don't get the fuck outside right fucking now!"_

I sidestepped a squire who was dragging a crying cadet by her feet to grab Dimitri as he stumbled out of his room.

"Your Highness, make sure the officers take full house accountability," I said.

"Yes, Professor!"

"And move with a purpose!" I shouted as he and Dedue rushed outside.

I had specifically instructed the squires not to drag the Lion officers out of their rooms, I wanted them to be able to get themselves up and rally their own companies. Once all of the Lion soldiers had assembled by company in our small yard, I took accountability from Dimitri.

"House Leader, are all officers accounted for?" I said.

"Yes, Professor!" He replied.

"Are you sure?"

"Y-yes, Professor!"

"Are you very sure?"

"Sylvain and Mercedes are not present, Your Highness," Dedue quietly told Dimitri.

"Thank you for actually doing your job, House Sergeant, though it would have saved your House Leader the embarrassment if you had spoken up just a moment sooner," I said.

"My apologies."

"What are you apologizing to me for? It's His Highness who you failed to assist."

"My apologies, Your Highness."

"The fault is my own, Dedue."

"Forget about who's fault it is," I said. "Rectify the situation by finding Sylvain and Mercedes."

_'She's right there,' _said Sothis.

The blonde-haired woman ran right up to us at that very moment.

"I-I'm so sorry, Professor!" She huffed. "I don't know why I didn't wake up! Did the rest of my company make it?"

I just stared at her. Dimitri and Dedue also stared at her. In fact, just about everyone who could who see her stared, and she caused quite a stir. Most of the cadets were blushing or laughing, the girls were mostly laughing. Some of the boys made wolf-whistles. The squires just looked at her like she was the biggest idiot on the Goddess's green Earth.

"Um. . . is something wrong, Professor?" She asked, aware of the uncomfortable attention she was receiving.

I suppressed an exasperated sigh as I rubbed my eyes.

"Miss Martritz, did you bother to check yourself before you left your room?" I said as calmly as possible.

"Check myself? What do you mea-" She suddenly realize that she was wearing nothing but her slip and blushed furiously. "Oh no! Professor, I-"

"_How_ did you forget to put on your uniform?"

"I-I don't know, I guess I j-"

"Go back to your room and put on your fucking uniform."

She bolted off and half the formation burst into laughter.

**_"Shut__ up!"_**

They were silent.

"Make sure the companies are briefed for their drills today," I turned to Dimitri and Dedue. "I'm gonna go drag Sylvain out of bed so we don't waste any more time."

I walked off without bothering to listen to their acknowledgement and headed straight for Sylvain's room.

_'Already a handful, aren't they?' _Sothis chuckled.

_'The soldier's term is 'ate up.''_

I heard no noise behind Sylvain's door when it reached it, so I kicked it open. And found the redhead lying in bed with a girl, both roused by the sound.

"Wuh-Professor!" Sylvain exclaimed.

I yanked the covers off of them and tossed the girl onto the floor. She yelped like a puppy as she tumbled.

_"I'm sorry, I'm so-"_

"Get out of my sight."

She instantly made herself scarce and Sylvain sat up.

"Professor, I swear it's not-"

"Mister Gautier, you have exactly to the count of fifty to be in your uniform and outside or I will sick Miss Galatea on you."

He was outside in half that time.

It took much longer than necessary to get the entire house assembled, inspected, and divided amongst the cadre for their drills. It seemed my officers still had not gotten their act together. Not only were Mercedes and Sylvain late, but they also messed up their company roll calls and had to thoroughly inspect every rank. Dimitri also had to physically separate Ingrid form Sylvain when she found out what he had been doing. Once morning assembly was done and the cadets were dispersed, however, I gathered the officers for our own plan of the day.

"Today is gonna be real simple," I said. "Cyril, if you'd please?"

The boy flipped open a chest he had placed on the ground, revealing multiple shirts of mail for all to see.

"We're going straight into combatives, Professor?" asked Dimitri.

"Not yet."

I took one of the large hauberks from the chest and pulled it over my head and arms, letting the parted skirt drop around my thighs.

"Everybody put one on," I said. "We're going for a run."

* * *

_"Come on! All the way up!" _I shouted to the cadets as they ran up the steep incline to the small gate.

We were outside the monastery walls, doing sprints up and down the hill, though after the fifth one it became more like jogging. Dedue, Annette, and Mercedes noticeably had the most trouble sprinting. Dedue naturally had less running endurance because of his lumbering size and the two much smaller girls were easily fatigued by the weight of their hauberks, which was the whole point.

_"Keep going, I did not give you permission to stop!"_

Dimitri and Felix had the least trouble running in mail, which didn't surprise me, though Ashe was also surprisingly resilient despite being almost as small as Annette. I did every single sprint with them just to prove the point. Despite being an average-sized woman I was so used to combat in mail I could run in it for a long time. The Lions needed to build that same endurance in the armor that they would fight in. After building up a good sweat from the sprints, I took them to the river that fed Garreg Mach's aqueduct.

"Everybody doing alright?" I rhetorically asked.

Most of them answered affirmatively; though Dedue was noticeably winded and Annette and Mercedes were doubled over, struggling to catch their breath.

"Good," I said. "Because it's time to swim."

I will never forget the looks on their faces.

* * *

_"Up! Down! Up! Down!" _I shouted the instructions for lifting and dropping the burlap sacks.

I allowed them to have a short break after the river swim, which only consisted of a single lap to the opposite bank and back but it wasn't easy when to do so with mail on. Then it was straight to the officer training grounds where I led them in calisthenics to build agility in the mail before moving on to strength training. A knight should ideally be able to lift his own body weight so I had large burlap sacks that were filled with rocks set aside, all as proportionate to their sizes as I could make them. I led them in multiple sets of lifting with their legs and arms then transitioned to jogging back and forth across the grounds with the heavy sacks still in their arms, and the hauberks weighing on them, then repeated the cycle several times. They generally fatigued at about the rate I expected them to, except for Dimitri who displayed the same disproportionate strength he had shown when he clobbered Raphael. Mercedes collapsed to her knees and vomited at one point, and I had to help her pick her sack up again. I noticed that Annette seemed to have more arm strength than I expected her to have for being such a small girl. Ashe was also much stronger than he looked but that didn't surprise me given his ability with a bow.

The most important exercise of them all, however, was the wooden horse, a contraption with a saddle that bobbed and shifted with the user's weight to simulate mounting a warhorse.

"All knights need to be able to mount a horse with all of their equipment on," I said to the cadets. "Allow me to demonstrate."

I put a foot in the stirrup, grabbed the bridle with one hand, stepped up in the stirrup while pulling myself towards the bridle, then swung my other leg over the saddle and sat down.

"Cavalrymen or not, as officers you should be able to do this with full armor and weapons. And if shit goes sideways you'll have to be able to jump right off and recover yourself if you can't land straight."

"How can we even do that with this heavy armor on?" Annette muttered.

As soon as I heard that, I leapt off the saddle, somersaulted as I hit the ground, and stood back up.

"Like that," I said.

They just stared at me.

"The weight of mail coats is spread out across your body, same goes for plates. You don't have to be a natural horseman to pull it off, it's all about controlling your balance. You have turn into the fall and use the rolling momentum to somersault to your feet."

After that little demonstration, I made them practice mounting and dismounting drills. Sylvain, Ingrid, and Dimitri were unsurprisingly the most adept. Felix and Ashe were no slouches either. Annette managed to at least get on the saddle her first attempt, but then lost her balance as soon as she tried to place her other foot in the opposite stirrup and fell right over. Mercedes managed to get on the saddle after multiple attempts, but she also fell right on the ground as soon as she tried to jump off when her foot caught in the stirrup. Dedue could not even get on the saddle, he simply fell on his back every time he attempted to step up in the stirrup. He was eventually able to at least mount the saddle after many, many, tries but it was pretty clear that the large Duscurite would not be serving the Kingdom as a cavalry officer.

After making only one successful attempt, could only look at the ground in embarrassment and say, "Forgive me for my ineptitude."

"Practice yields results," I said.

"Maybe, but I should already meet the standard in order to serve His Highness."

Felix scoffed. "Nothing but a damn lapdog."

Ingrid scowled at him. "Felix, every word out of your mouth does _not _have to be-"

Before she could finish her sentence, I suddenly backhanded Felix across the face with a resounding _smack_. The other Lions froze as they watched me grab his collar and pulled him almost nose-to-nose.

"Mister Fraldarius, I am already quite sick of your attitude. Frankly, I don't know how your classmates tolerate it, or anyone else for that matter, but I won't and it's gonna stop. Today. I better not hear one more insult out of you, do you understand?"

He directed his glare away from me. ". . . yes, Professor."

_"Look me in the eye when I'm fucking talking to you!"_

"Yes, Professor."

"Good. That is your only warning."

My reprimand abruptly ended as Jeralt walked into the training grounds and called to me.

"Byleth! There's a situation, the Seneschal needs to speak with you and the other professors right now."

_'That's strange.' _"Everybody do five more cycles," I said as I let go of Felix. "I'll meet you in the courtyard by the next bell."

"Understood," said Dimitri.

And with that I took off my hauberk and left the Lions to finish their morning training as I left with Jeralt.

I heard Sylvain say, "You had that one coming, Fe."

"What was going there?" Jeralt asked, amused.

"Just giving a brat an attitude adjustment," I replied. "What's happened?"

"Don't actually know. But whatever it is, it's urgent enough to warrant the attention of you professors and myself."

_'I hope it doesn't involve a dead cadet, I have enough to deal with from my own students as it is.'_

_'Don't be surprised if it does,' _said Sothis.

_'I'm talking to a snarky, magical elf-girl who lives inside my head. I don't think anything can reasonably surprise me anymore.'_

* * *

"They _what?!_"

_'What was that you said about no surprises?' _Sothis smirked.

_'Shut your mouth.'_

"Yes, we were just as surprised as you are," said Sir Gilbert. "We have no idea how they managed to disappear so quickly, either. We deliberately kept the news silent to prevent a panic precisely because of how sudden it was."

"Oh, dear," said Manuela.

"This is most disturbing," Hanneman stroked his bearded chin in thought.

I stood in the cadre conference room next to Jeralt, Hanneman, and Manuela, digesting the information that Seteth and Gilbert were giving us. The news indeed came as a shock to all of us.

"Do you suspect they had help from the inside?" Asked Jeralt.

"We have been conducting an internal investigation ever since but have found no evidence thus far," said Seteth. "There were no was also no evidence of robbery in the town itself, suggesting that they were trying to flee from Garreg Mach as swiftly as possible. Given the intelligence we've just received, it is highly likely that they are hiding among the Nabatean ruins."

"And we had no trail to follow until we received the dispatch from Epsilon just this morning," Gilbert added. "To make matters worse, we've noticed an unforeseen increase in bandit activity in this region over the past week. Reports of village pillaging, abandoned campsites that were poorly concealed, and most disturbingly, multiple weapons caravans being robbed of their equipment. All the the signs point to a buildup the likes of which we haven't seen for a long time. We have no understanding as to a cause, but it a clear threat that must be suppressed."

"So now that we have a scent, you want my brigade to hunt them down?" Asked Jeralt.

"Yes, but you won't go alone. I will be placing both a cavalry reconnaissance squadron and a pegasus troop under your command."

"But that's not why you called on Hanneman, Manuela and I, isn't it?" I asked.

"I'm afraid not," Seteth replied.

"You're not about to suggest what I think you are, are you, Seteth?" Manuela looked worried.

"You are already aware of the policy, Manuela," he crossed his arms. "The cadet officers require service time as tribunes and this mission the least risk."

_'Hunting down bandits who suddenly vanished is the least risky option?' _I didn't sarcastically remark out loud. I knew the Seneschal was aware of the risk involved, but it was the least risky opportunity that was immediately open. Such is the absurdity of war.

"Young Mister Bergliez will be eager, at least," Hanneman muttered.

"Better inform then all, then," I said.

* * *

The Black Eagle classroom buzzed with excitement as we gathered all twenty-four cadet officers, they could all sense a big announcement coming. Even the normally stoic boys Dedue, Hubert, and Felix seemed more alert. The only cadet who seemed to completely ignore what was going on around him was Linhardt, who simply rested his head on his propped-up palm with eyes closed. Marianne looked like she would rather be anywhere else, as per usual, and the Black Eagle's resident recluse Bernadetta looked like she just wanted to hide under a desk.

"Alright, settle down, everybody," Manuela addressed everyone in Adrestian. "We have a very important announcement to make, so listen closely."

"Do we get to go on a mission?!" Caspar asked way too excitedly.

"That'd be awesome!" Raphael gave a toothy grin, though it looked more like a grimace thanks to the broken nose Dimitri gave him yesterday.

"Sit down, Caspar," Edelgard said to the blue-haired boy like an exhausted mother, eliciting a round of laughs.

"You too, Raph," Claude chuckled.

"Actually, he's not wrong," said Hanneman, immediately getting everyone's attention. "I'm sure you have all been anticipating your future assignments as tribunes. Well, you will not have to wait much longer, we have just been informed that the band of thieves whom the Knights incarcerated have recently escaped and have fled north to Zanado. These are the very same bandits who attacked during our field exercise, as such, under Church law, the Knights are preparing a mission to deal with them permanently."

"We're gonna fight!" Caspar pumped his fist.

Edelgard rubbed her eyes.

"Not exactly," I interjected.

"Awww. . ."

That was the first clear indication that most of these cadets had never been to war. "Don't forget the purpose of your participation in this mission is to learn as tribunes. You will be shadowing the ranking officers, you will be fully present for all planning and rehearsals, and each class will conduct a battle review when we return to the monastery. There is always the possibility that you will directly fight if things go pear-shaped, as they often do, but you are _not _officers yet. You won't be leading any charges."

"I do not have understanding," a visibly confused Petra said in her stilted Adrestian. "What are pears having to do with it?"

"It's just a figure of speech, Petra," Dorothea chuckled.

"Oh. . . please be accepting my apologies."

Her words prompted a round of chuckles and she slightly flushed.

"I'm afraid Professor Eisner is correct, however," Hanneman brought the discussion back to the point. "Your tribune missions are meant to be learning experiences. Direct combat is not your priority. But as I said, you will by no means be left out of the planning process, and we will go over the tentative first phase."

He stepped over to the chalk board where the phase's timeline and diagram were drawn out.

"As I mentioned, we believe the bandits to be hiding in of Zanado canyon, our area of operation. Intelligence suggests the enemy is increasing in number. The mission is to conduct a brigade-sized patrol in vicinity of Fort Oghma-Eplison at the canyon's edge to ascertain the size and capability of the bandit band, trap them in the canyon, and neutralize them. The directive from Seneschal Seteth himself is to prosecute the Law of Macuil against the bandits with extreme prejudice.

"Today and tomorrow will be fully devoted to preparing for the expedition, you need not be concerned about anything else other than gathering the necessary equipment for each of your classes. We will all have a equipment layout tomorrow at evening bell to ensure that each of you are prepared for the entire mission. We will pass down packing lists to your house leaders by the end of the day. The mission force will assemble before dawn on Saturday and conduct a full inspection before we depart.

He then traced a finger up the sketched map, over the contour lines that represented the Zanado canyon. "It should take approximately five days to reach Fort Oghma-Epsilon. From there, we will receive intelligence from the fort garrison as to the whereabouts of the bandits and create the second-phase plan to search and destroy them. Sir Jeralt will give a more thorough briefing to the force itself tomorrow evening, for now this is just the basic outline for the mission's first phase. Are there any questions at this time?"

"So our rules of engagement for the mission are entirely hinged on the Law of Macuil?" Asked Linhardt, actually showing interest in the meeting for the first time.

"Exactly," I said.

"So then, once we're done beating them, how are we going to bring the prisoners back?" said Hilda.

There was a pregnant pause in the room as half the cadets stared at Hilda for her profound ignorance.

"We're not brining back any prisoners," I replied.

"So. . . we're just gonna leave them at the fort?"

I just barely resisted the urge to roll my eyes.

"No, it means that when we find the bandits, we're going to kill every last one."

"That's a bit. . . excessive, don't you think?" Asked Hilda.

I blinked. "Hilda. . . have you not read the Law of Macuil?"

"I. . . um, skimmed it for the entrance exams?"

Claude buried his face in his palm. It shouldn't have come as a surprise that the number one shirker in the whole Academy did not know the Church's law of warfare, but it seriously made me question how she ever passed the entrance exams.

"Those bandits are criminals who blew their chance to rehabilitate. As per the Law of Macuil, the only other option is death. Any further questions?"

"Uh. . . no, Professor."

"Glad you understand. Next time actually read the doctrine."

"I-I'll remember that," she was now furiously blushing from embarrassment, though Claude looked even more embarrassed.

"Very well, then," Hanneman interjected. "If there are no further questions, you are all free to go. Any further comments from the two of you, Professors?"

"Just one," I said. "Blue Lions, meet me in our classroom right after this."

* * *

"What is it you wish to discuss with us, Professor?" Dimitri asked when we had all informally gathered in our classroom.

I sat on my desk and crossed my arms, sweeping my gaze over each of them.

"I wanted to get a sense of all of your feeling on the mission," I said. "Especially given that it will be the first that many of you have ever experienced."

They all shared glances for a moment.

"I'm. . . really nervous to be honest," Annette looked at the ground as though she had just admitted a shameful secret.

"I am apprehensive as well," said Mercedes. "Annie and I have never experienced real combat before."

"Neither have I," Ingrid added. "Even though I've been learning how to fight since I was a girl."

"I've had to defend myself a lot before, but never in an actual battle," said Ashe.

Given what I knew about Ashe's background, that didn't surprise me.

"I must confess as well that even though I have experienced combat. . . I'm not quite used to it yet," said Dimitri, Felix shot a blank glance at him.

"If I may say so, Professor, it won't be the first time for His Highness, Dedue, Felix, or myself," said Sylvain. "We saw war in the Western Rebellion,"

"I am aware of that, but I read the after action reports in your files. You all reacted relatively well in that situation, but it was a fluke that that single platoon of mounted knights managed to penetrate the Royal lines all the way to the command company. It wasn't so much a brilliant assault on the part of the enemy as much as it was a failure of multiple Royal officers to properly do their jobs. And from what I read, His Highness was the only one to actually kill a man, correct?

"That is correct, Professor," Dimitri solemnly replied.

"You were not cadets or even actual tribunes then either, everything was left up to your fathers. No offense, Your Highness."

"None taken, Professor," he said, though I could still see a twinge of pain in his eyes.

I once again found myself internally lamenting my lack of ability to articulate my message. Talking to these students was not the same as talking to seasoned soldiers.

"Regardless of how you feel, what I really want all of you to understand is this; what happens on the battlefield is not a game," I stood up from the desk. "I've seen so many young soldiers eager to charge into a blaze of glory like they were the sons of Saint Cichol himself, only to take an arrow in the thigh and bleed out in moments."

At this point I was pacing in front of the group, looking each one in the eye as I spoke. "I'm telling you right now, _don't _be naive about the reality of combat like Caspar, Raphael, and Hilda. I've seen the strongest, bravest, men writhing in pain without their limbs in the aid stations, crying for their damn mothers, as the mages and surgeons desperately tried to save their lives, but there was no magic spell or elixir that could just heal them. You can't just stand back up from an arrow in the leg, or a spear in the abdomen, and no amount of white magic can save a man whose brains are oozing out from an open skull wound, because _I can't tell you_ how many times I've seen crap like that. You each need to make peace with the very real possibility that you won't come back to Garreg Mach alive.

"And I promise you, order will _always _break down in battle, it's only a matter of when, which is why preparation and discipline are the keys to survival. And that discipline is having the decisiveness and mettle to control yourself even when everything is falling apart. Everyone needs to take bold, decisive action when things inevitably go to hell, but trust me when I say that there is a very fine line between bold action and stupidity and _that_ is what gets good men killed, and if you're not careful it _will _kill you too."

Only when I stopped to take a breath did I realize that my voice had been steadily rising and my students were all looking at me with various levels of discomfort. Ashe and Annette almost looked scared now. Ingrid and Sylvain looked more concerned. Felix and Dedue mostly retained their stoic demeanors, but I could see the apprehension behind their stone-cold eyes. Mercedes, surprisingly, had the look of a sad mother as though she had witnessed exactly what I had described. I couldn't tell what Dimitri was thinking. I knew there was a warrior behind those young, blue eyes but even he knew that he was not untouchable.

"With you on our side, Professor. . . I do not fear death," he said.

* * *

Those words reverberated through my head for hours. It was the most absurd thing Dimitri had said to be at that point. What was so special about me that my mere presence negated the fear of death? I could not comprehend the level of trust that the Prince of Faerghus had confided me despite having only met me just over two weeks earlier. I knew that Dimitri was not a naive young man because of what he had lived through and yet his esteem for me was baffling. I may have been a leader of soldiers and I may have saved Edelgard's life, but such was the expectation of anyone else in my position. I also certainly would have died in the process if Sothis had not literally turned back time, something that still gave me a headache just thinking about it. Trusting me as his professor was one thing, but the idea that a future king already trusted a common-born mercenary with his life stirred up strange emotions in me that I didn't know how to process.

I did my best to free my mind of such thoughts as I assigned preparation tasks to each of the Lions, before adjourning our little meeting. As the House Leader, Dimitri was naturally in charge of maintaining accountability of all tasks and keeping everyone on schedule. I made Felix and Sylvain the operations officers to force Felix to work with the two classmates he disdained the most on writing up the class's integrated operation plan within the parameters of the tentative orders that were passed down from Gilbert. I wanted to supervise the three of them on that task, mostly in case Felix needed another attitude adjustment, but Sothis advised that it would be counterproductive for their teamwork development if I hovered over them like a mother wyvern so I decided to leave them to it. I instead trusted Ingrid to keep them well-behaved as the acting executive officer. I had also assigned Ashe and Dedue as the class quartermasters, so I ended up accompanying Ashe to the town market for that task.

". . . and Annette needs a brigandine buckle replaced, that should it be," Ashe rolled up his list.

"Why don't we split up to save time?" I said. "I'll check the military merchants on the west side, you take the other side. Meet back at the drawbridge no later than the next bell."

"Sure thing, Professor, I'll see you soon."

He smiled and we went our separate ways. No sooner had I wandered into the stands before I was greeted by a redheaded woman at a weapon's cart.

"Hey there, young lady!" She said. "Are you looking to buy, or would you rather cry? Just so you know, there's no beating my prices!"

I blinked.

"That almost sounded like a challenge."

"Ha! Trust me, friend, you don't want to waste your life haggling with me," she gave me a sly grin.

"Right. . . well, I'm guessing you have vulneraries?"

She pulled open a drawer on her cart to show me its contents. "Are these the ones?"

"Full-nutrient?"

"And top quality! Purchased them from the Fhirdiad quartermaster stores too."

"Alright, I'll take five."

"Thanks a bunch!"

Gold and goods changed hands, but as I packed my class's new supplies in my rucksack the merchant looked at me with renewed interest.

"Say, are you the Ashen Demon Byleth?"

"Word travels fast around here."

"I've got lots of friends here," she chuckled and reached out her hand. "Name's Anna, pleasure to meet the legend herself."

"'Legend' is stretching it," I said as I shook her hand.

"But you're still Sir Jeralt's daughter, right? I heard your the new professor at the Officer's Academy too."

"Sure am, not that I really asked for it."

"From what my fiancé's heard about you, I'm sure your cadets are performing great under your guidance!"

_'You wouldn't think so if you saw how badly they got their asses kicked yesterday.' _"Thanks. You have a fiancé in the Central Army?"

"Sure do! His name's Jake, he's a longbowman in Sir Sigurd's division. Keep him out of trouble if you deploy with him," she winked.

"I'll keep an eye out, have a nice day," I replied as I walked away.

"Come back soon!"

I was barely five steps away before I heard this exchange:

"Hey there, young lady! Are you looking to buy, or would you rather cry? Just so you know, there's no beating my prices!"

Petra's voice replied in Adrestian, "Cry. . . beating. . . are you wanting to battle me?"

"As in a battle of wills? Trust me kid, you don't want to waste your life trying to beat me at- _huh?!_"

_'Oh, shit.'_

Fortunately Ashe reappeared just as Petra drew her dagger and calmed the situation.

There were already plenty of Adrestian senators in the Imperial Parliament who disapproved of the Bridigine princess's presence in Garreg Mach, attacking an innocent merchant would've certainly gave them cause to demand her expulsion. Petra's conundrum with language barrier didn't help her case either. As it was, she had enough trouble speaking any tongue of Fódlan at all mainly due to the fact that the Brigidine language uses a verb-subject-object sentence structure, the opposite of the subject-verb-object order of most Fódlander languages. She spoke noble Adrestian well enough to get by, but most of Garreg Mach spoke Faerghian, which was much harder for her to speak because of it's mood-based conjugations and heavy use of idioms. Thus, when a Faerghian-speaking Anna told Petra that there was no 'beating' her prices, what she actually said was, "There is no way to defeat my prices." Unfortunately, the Faerghian word that means 'to defeat' literally translates as a physical beating in Adrestian and the nuance went right over Petra's head. She ended up quite embarrassed by the little episode for making a fool of herself, and unintentionally endangering the political position of her kingdom, but she made a new friend in Ashe at least.

The two of them hit it off remarkably well. Fortunately, Ashe fluently spoke Adrestian as a result of having grown up in the Gaspard border region and explained the concept haggling to Petra, even managing to talk down Anna's prices so she could purchase vulneraries for her class's supplies as she had been chosen as the mission's logistics officer for the Black Eagles.

"Fine, twenty percent, but you better be grateful!" Anna gave an exasperated sigh as she waved us all away.

Petra had somehow never heard of haggling before and absorbed it like a divine revelation as she walked and talked with Ashe.

"Give I my gratitude to you-_letse__._ . . " she cursed in Brigidine for unintentionally lapsing into it's grammar. "I give you my gratitude, Ashe," she smiled after correcting herself.

"Not a problem," he said. "I'm used to this sort of thing."

"Ugh, I have already been discovering that to barter for prices here is. . . complex? Complicated. I have gratitude for this bargain, now the extra gold can be saved by my class for future missions. I have gratitude also for teaching the customs of Fódlanders to me."

"Eh, I wouldn't call it s custom, exactly. It's just a trick we commoners use to save money."

"Efficiency with money is a wonderful culture!"

"I promise you, it's really nothing special," Ashe smiled.

"But it is! As a mattering of fact, could you be sparing the time to assist me in procuring other supplies for my class? I would be having immense gratitude."

"Oh, um. . . would that be okay, Professor?" Ashe asked me.

"It's fine," I said. "I'll handle the rest."

Petra's face lit up. "I give my gratitude also to you, Professor Eisner!"

She then very excitedly grabbed Ashe's hand and rushed off with him. I noticed Ashe was blushing at the gesture but didn't object and the two of them quickly disappeared into the market crowd.

_'Well now, encouraging affection between rival houses, are we?' _Sothis grinned. _'And with a foreign princess no less. How touching.'_

I snorted at that. _'Rival houses or not, in a few days time they'll all be sleeping in the same bivouac and standing in their first shield-wall together.'_

* * *

Following Sothis' advice, I passively coached the cadets on their preparation tasks for the rest of the day and they actually surprised me by how much they were able to accomplish with minimal guidance. Felix still disdained Dimitri and Sylvain as expected, but didn't start any quarrels, either motivated to get their work done as smoothly as possible or to avoid pissing me off any further. Thanks to everyone's efficiency the class jumped ahead on our timeline and I allowed them to fully rest and recuperate for the evening after dinner. I couldn't quite tell if their new found efficiency was simply born out of a desire to redeem themselves in my eyes after the complete debacle that was the mock battle, for which they would still have to make up for, but it was a step in the right direction at least.

The sky was still bright and clear when dinner was finished so I decided to take a stroll to the fishing lake. It was called a "lake" but it was really just a dug-in reservoir, connected to the monastery aqueduct, that was also a fish farm. Fishing there was a popular pastime in the monastery, making for a nice quiet spot to collect my thoughts. As I walked to the edge of the small dock, I came upon none other than the academy's chief weapons instructor; Sir Jeritza von Hrym, a towering, blonde-haired man who wore an opera mask that covered his upper face, ostensibly to conceal scars.

"What?" He said in his deep Adrestian accent as I approached his side. "I desired fresh air."

"By all means, don't let me stop you," I dryly remarked.

"Indeed," he passively looked over the small lake. "It is plain that there is something on your mind, however."

"That obvious, huh? Well, if you care to hear, I do have some. . . concerns about my cadets."

"I suppose your concerns are regarding the tribune mission."

"If only that. I know this semester began literally yesterday, but I'm already questioning their ability to be soldiers, much less officers."

"Understandable. The mock battle was a pathetic display."

"But that's just it, there _is _something there. They do have individual talents, in spite of their horrendous weaknesses. I just wish I could understand the root cause that's holding them back."

"It's simple, they have no effective killer instinct. Especially Martritz, she's never so much as hurt a fly in her life," he said very matter-of-factly.

"Killer instinct?" I cocked my eyebrow. "But I've _seen _the Prince kill a man."

"His discipline is lacking. When faced with a difficult tactical situation, he made a reckless decision. The results speak for themselves. It rendered his instinct ineffective."

"That much I know, but how am I supposed to instill that in him? Or all of them for that matter."

"It cannot be taught. It can only be learned." He turned to me. "They can only learn it from combat. And killing."

He then walked away, leaving me with that thought.

_'He does make a good point, cheerful as he may be,' _Sothis said only half sarcastically.

_'Am I looking at this the wrong way?' _I thought half to myself. _'I can teach them to fight all day, but am I already having too much of a protective attitude that won't be conducive to acquiring killer instinct?' _

_'You can't really determine that yet, the mission hasn't even happened. But whether or not you will hinder them is entirely up to you.'_

I was certainly going to hate what happened at Zanado.

* * *

During the War of Heroes, Saint Seiros proclaimed the Oghma mountains to be Fódlan's center of gravity; the source of power that provides moral or physical strength, freedom of action, or will to act. That was why Garreg Mach was built, to be the bastion of whoever wished to control the continent. The Oghmas thus remained the most coveted and valuable region for all of Fódlan's history. When the Imperial-Church army of Seiros and Wilhelm built their camp on the saddle that would become the monastery, they held the perfect ground to defend themselves and used the mountains to screen their movements. Nemesis and the Ten Elites never expected any army to come out of those seemingly impassible mountains, so when Seiros and Wilhelm did just that they achieved total surprise when they fell on the enemy in the Tailtean Plains and turned the tide of the war by killing Nemesis. When the War of the Eagle and Lion raged over 650 years later, the Imperial Army tried to use the same operational strategy against the rebelling Faerghians. Loog the Great anticipate their action, however, and drew them into a crushing trap in the very same plains, securing the independence of Faerghus. And when the Crescent Moon War tore the Holy Kingdom apart 130 years later, the Leicester Alliance secured the mountain range on their border and defeated the rival kingdoms through war of attrition.

Even in Imperial Year 1180, the Oghmas were the still strongest natural barrier between all three realms. That was why the Central Church Army held them as their command location, and the reason why they had a network of forts spread out across the mountains. But even the twenty-four forts couldn't exhaustively monitor the entire mountain range. A band of thieves could evade detection for a long time if they knew what they were doing, as such our task force maintained high alert posture the entire four-day journey to Fort Oghma-Epsilon.

Jeralt's Brigade, as it was now officially designated in Church records, was the primary unit of the mission, though it was not a full brigade yet. Thanks to the boon of Jeralt's reputation, his brigade had so far recruited enough men to form a full-strength battalion of four heavy infantry companies, one light infantry company, one archer company, and a mage platoon. The infantry companies were about a hundred men each and the archer company had eighty. The single cavalry troop was also recruited to full-strength as well, giving Jeralt over 600 soldiers, a hundred troopers, and thirty mages, over four times the men we had in Remire. Supporting Jeralt's Brigade on the mission was a cavalry reconnaissance squadron of 400 troopers under "Lady Death" Shamir Nevrand and 120-strong pegasus troop under Lady Caeda von Talys.

Jeralt's Brigade formed the main body of the force formation, marching in a tactical column with two platoons abreast. The battalion's mage sections marched at three points near the front, center, and rear of the column. The cadets marched in their own informal platoon at the center, where our three supply wagons were located. Two heavy companies each marched at the front and rear of the center while Jeralt personally led 'Omega Troop' in front of our infantry column, behind Shamir's cavalrymen. Shamir's squadron in turn screened the brigade's movement in diamond formation by troop. Shamir herself led Alpha Troop half-a-mile in front, Beta and Gamma Troops covered the flanks, and Delta Troop brought up the rear. Caeda's pegasus attachment, Rho Troop, provided aerial overwatch. Fortunately, there was no shortage of cloud cover in these mountains and Rho Troop used it to conceal their movements using the movement technique called 'cloud bounding' where one element would hover above a formation and the other element flew ahead to the nearest formation ,and so on. In all honesty, it all really was a textbook example of professional soldiering.

Of course, the cadets were too busy bitching to care.

"Ugh, I'm all _sweaty,_" said Hilda. "Are we taking a break any time soon?"

"Come now, dear Hilda, nobles must display as much fortitude as the common men we lead into battle," Lorenz proudly said. "Although I certainly wouldn't say no to relieving some of our load to the supply train."

"I've got to admit, my feet are starting to hurt," said Ignatz.

"We're not reducing our load unless it's a health emergency, cadets," Manuela said somewhat sternly, though it sounded pretty half-assed to me.

"Let me take that, Lysithea, you look like you're dying," Raphael said as he snatched Lysithea's rucksack off her back.

"H-hey! Give it back, I carry it!" She desperately trying to pull it off of Raphael's shoulder.

"You almost tripped over a rock, take a break."

"No! I'm not a child!"

"Lysithea, please do everyone a favor and put a cork in it," Claude flatly said.

"You ever try not being a little brat, Lysithea?" said Leonie.

"Shut up!" she screeched.

"Please stop, you're giving me a damn headache, " Linhardt muttered.

"Cadets, remember we are on a mission, remain professional," said Manuela.

"I don't care if they're stealing, can we just stay home and. . . _not_ fight?" Bernadetta whined.

_'How did she ever get into the academy?' _said Sothis.

"You're sweating profusely, Your Highness, are you sure you don't want me to carry your rucksack?" asked Hubert.

"I can handle it, Hubert," Edelgard grunted.

"Why, Your Highness, surely you can't be experiencing fatigue already, we still have four more days," Ferdinand smirked.

"You would be _wise_ to stop talking, Ferdinand," Hubert glared daggers at him.

"Save it for the bandits you two," Edelgard said in an exasperated and near-breathless tone.

"Saving? What are we needing to save?" said Petra.

"It's a figure of speech."

"My shoulders are already killing me. . . " Annette moaned.

"Not so. . . sure about this," Mercedes huffed a breath in through the thin air.

"For crying out loud, it's not even midday," said Felix.

"Lay off of them, Felix," Ingrid scolded.

"Quit your damn bitching," I finally said. "We've got five days to reach the fort and you're not going to embarrass the Academy by constantly prattling like a bunch of spoiled brats."

"She's right, students, you must behave like future officers," said Hanneman.

An awkward silence fell over the cadet platoon.

_'Heavenly Mother, I beseech a blessing of your tender patience to stop me from strangling these children. I mean it.'_

_'You really hate this job, don't you?' _said Sothis.

I didn't know it yet, but I was certainly going to hate what was about to happen in Zanado.


	8. Killer Instinct (Part 2)

**Context note: "Warlock" isn't a class in this fic, it's just a term that the characters use to distinguish criminal mages (since the original Old English word for "warlock" meant "oath breaker").**

**This chapter also makes heavy use of geological terms. Just to avoid confusion, a cirque is basically a three-sided valley.**

**Hope y'all had a good Thanksgiving!**

* * *

**Killer Instinct (Part 2)**

The five-day trek to the fort felt much longer thanks to the cadets. In all fairness, it would have been a much faster journey in flat terrain, but the central Oghmas were the densest of the entire range. There was no such thing as flat land for much of it, we were either going up a slope, down a slope, on the side of a slope, or along a crest. Fortunately the Church-built convoy roads made travel substantially easier, though they also necessitated constant security. The elevation was higher than Garreg Mach in several places and the air was much more thin and arid. It nearly became frigid when the sun went down. The Blue Lions had the least trouble functioning in this environment, having all been raised raised in the cold north, except Mercedes. The southern-raised Black Eagles certainly had the worst time here, especially the tropical islander Petra, who had never experienced such cold in her life. Nonetheless, Jeralt kept the force marching at a relentless pace, day and night, halting very briefly each day to eat, and resting for no more than six hours per night before moving out again in the pre-dawn hours, all until we finally reached Fort Oghma-Epsilon.

The fort was built atop a wide ridge that was artificially flattened ,and it was already nightfall when we arrived. The cadets were half-asleep on their feet as we marched through the gate. The garrison commander, Sir Astram, immediately met with Jeralt, Shamir, and Caeda to get our force quartered in the fort's expedition barracks. Hanneman, Manuela, and I took our cadets straight to their barrack bay where half of them fell asleep on their bunks before unpacking their fresh uniforms. Lysithea even passed out on her rucksack and had to be placed on her bunk. But there was no rest for the house leaders or the cadre as Jeralt called the necessary briefing with Astram, his garrison staff, Shamir, Caeda, and all the company and troop leaders. We naturally had to be there as well.

Soon all subordinate leaders were huddled around a large table map in the fort's command post and the long deliberation began. Being tribunes, Dimitri, Edelgard, and Claude did not speak during the meeting. I myself didn't speak much either. Now that I was a cadre, my sole responsibility was the cadets. I was no longer part of Jeralt's chain of command, and thus couldn't take participate in his decision-making process in any official capacity like I had my whole life. I wasn't sure how I felt about that.

Astram provided us with all the intelligence his garrison had gathered on our enemies. The bandits were not as skilled in concealment as they seemed to think, despite trying to use both the natural terrain and the Nabatean ruins in Zanado to their advantage. Based on visual contacts and natural signs of human activity, Fort Epsilon estimated the bandits to be anywhere 700 to over a thousand. Their hole-up site was confirmed to be in the ruins atop a plateau, strangely called Old Baldy, that was nestled in the pocket of a cirque valley less than ten miles north of the fort.

We had to have spent well over an hour discussing the execution of our operation; from on-site reconnaissance, which elements would attack, which elements would set up blocking positions, how the fort would sustain our force with convoys, and the succession of command. Jeralt made the command decision straightaway that our center of gravity would be Old Baldy itself. The ruins that sat on top of it, plus the cirque's ridges that surrounded it on the north, south, and west sides made it the key terrain where the enemy was likely to concentrate the most. There were ruins on the north ridge of the cirque as well, but any advance towards there would have swing wide around nearly the entire cirque, giving the enemy valuable time, and we simply didn't have the man power for an effective pincer movement. A single cavalry troop could move that far in good time, but not infantry. Two mostly intact bridges connected the plateau to the cirque on the north and south sides. The western ridge had a natural saddle point connected to the plateau that was much higher than the rest of the valley, there were also the remains of a bridge on that saddle point but it was now collapsed. Jeralt carefully considered all terrain factors in order to figure out exactly what we needed to do clear the ruins of Old Baldy. It seemed that any rational attack on the plateau would have to go across the south bridge, taking the time to circle all the way around to the northern ruins would be risky. But Jeralt always found solutions where others never looked, and as usual, it sounded absurd at face value.

"How low is the saddle point from either of the ridges?" He asked Astram's intelligence officer.

The man blinked in surprise before answering, "About a quarter-mile below the cirque's western ridge. Same for the plateau."

"And how far does it stretch from the west ridge to the plateau?"

"Roughly half mile."

"Then we'll send a flanking element directly across the it."

Everyone in the room was silent for a moment.

"Please tell me that's a joke, sir," said Caeda.

"He's not joking," I deadpanned, I wanted to slap her for knowing better than to flagrantly question her superior in the middle of a war council.

"The only other options are an encirclement that will buy them time to retreat, or bottleneck our whole force across the south bridge," said Jeralt. "It may be uneven, but it's far higher than the rest of the valley and our best chance to hit them with an attack they won't expect."

"Third Recon can join the flanking element," said Shamir, referring to her own men.

As cavalry scouts, the troopers of Shamir's 3rd Cavalry Reconnaissance Squadron could fight as dismounted light infantry if needed, particularly in terrain that didn't favor horses.

"And I presume we'll need a suppression element to draw the enemy's attention to the south bridge?" She asked.

"Exactly," said Jeralt.

After more deliberation it was decided that most of Jeralt's brigade would act as the suppression element that would advanced across the south bridge to the plateau in order to fix the enemy's focus as much as possible. Jeralt himself would directly command the suppression element with his dismounted heavy troopers up front, followed by all four of his heavy infantry companies. Astram committed an archer company and mage platoon from the garrison to the suppression element. Shamir would command the flanking element, which would be spearheaded by Jeralt's light infantry company, reinforced by Shamir's dismounted troopers. Jeralt's archer company and mage platoon would support the flanking element. Caeda's pegasus troopers would then attrit the enemy's formation and momentum with a dive charge as the flanking element would strike them as hard and fast as possible. At the very least, the bandits would be pressed on two sides

"Alright," said Jeralt. "Now that our plan has been refined, let's make sure our men are fed and rested, we'll brief the operation first thing in the morning. Any further questions?"

Hanneman raised his hand. "Regarding the cadets, which elements of the force will they be permitted to shadow?"

"Choose yourselves whichever you want for your respective houses, first come first served," Jeralt dismissively waved his hand. "Just have them placed with a unit before step-off."

It would have been completely reasonable to leave it at that. But then I remembered my conversation with Jeritza, and it compelled me to speak up.

"I request that the Blue Lion House join the assaulting element."

Everyone glanced at me, particularly Dimitri.

Jeralt just looked at me and said, "Granted."

No one raised any more questions and the meeting was adjourned.

* * *

"Pass the word to the Lions," I told Dimitri as we cadre and cadets left the headquarters. "Make sure they all know _exactly _what's going to happen tomorrow."

"Are you not coming back to the barracks, Professor?" He asked.

"I will later, I'm going to talk with Jeralt."

I technically should have called him _Sir _Jeralt in front of the cadets to respect his knighthood, but I was too used to just using his first name from our mercenary days and he didn't even care about knighthood titles to begin with. I was just about to chase after him and his brigade officers when Edelgard spoke.

"If I may ask, Professor, why did you request for the Blue Lions to join the flanking element?" She almost sounded indignant.

I gave her an odd look as I turned, I really didn't like her tone.

"Why are you concerned about that, Your Highness?"

"The flanking element will have the most dangerous mission, will you not? If the bandits detect your movement over the berm, you'll be exposed."

I really didn't feel like arguing with the Adrestian Princess at this hour.

"Then pray the Goddess's protection over us as we go over the top."

Edelgard frowned at my response, though I wasn't being sarcastic.

"You'll surely need as many hands as possible, the Black Eagles should go with the Lions."

I blinked.

"That is not your decision to make, Your Highness."

"She is right, Your Highness," Hanneman interjected. "I have already decided that the Black Eagles will join the suppression element. I personally don't think it's worth the risk for your class to join the flanking element with the Blue Lions."

"And yet Professor Eisner deems that the Lions are more qualified for the risk than we are?" she scowled. "We bear the same responsibility of this mission."

Before she could say another word, I stepped up close to her, deliberately staring down the smaller girl from my greater height to get my point across.

"Your Highness, with all due respect, I alone decide the actions of the Blue Lions," I said in noble Adrestian. "They are under my command and you do not have the vested authority to overrule me in their affairs, regardless of your rank. You should be more concerned with your own house. You will prove to be a lacking ruler if you're more concerned with the share of glory than the readiness of your own men-at-arms. "

Her steely, lilac eyes hardened at my rebuke and direct challenge to her pride. She simply stared back for a moment, as if trying to make me to back down by sheer force of will, but she had neither the combat experience or the physical stature to deter me. So she broke first.

"I understand, Professor," she curtly said as she stepped away.

"Good."

"Let us put that matter aside and rest while we can for the night," Hanneman firmly said. "Tomorrow will be the day of battle."

"Yes, goodnight," Edelgard said as she abrasively walked back to the barracks.

Hanneman gave a hefty sigh. "Please forgive her, Byleth. She doesn't mean to be insubordinate, she's just. . . letting her ambition cloud to judgement."

"That's the second time she's disrespected me," I said. "I've only tolerated it because of her rank. She does it one more time and I'll kicker her dwarf ass."

"I assure you, it will not come to that," Hanneman waved his hand. "She and I will have a discussion about it later. Until tomorrow."

He then made his way back to the barracks.

"I think we'll keep the Golden Deer with the suppression element as well, Claude," Manuela said to him.

"No argument here. We'll be sure to send extra prayers to you and His Kingliness, Teach," Claude winked at me. "Maybe we could even send Marianne with you for white magic support, especially after the performance of the mock battle."

Dimitri rolled his eyes at Claude's cheeky implication, but didn't let his rival house leader bait him. "I think Mercedes is completely capable for our task."

"Whatever you say, Mitya."

"Boys, please, we've had enough dick swinging for one night," Manuela sighed.

"I'll catch up to you, Your Highness," I said as a walked away.

_'You were a bit harsh towards Edelgard, don't you think?' _Said Sothis.

_'__I've worked for her kind for years, she doesn't actually give a rat's ass about 'sharing the responsibility', she's just competing for glory against her rivals. Her whole house is, really.'_

I freely admit that I was rather bigoted towards Adrestian nobles back then, and to some extent I still am. Adrestian pride was well documented even beyond Fódlan, but the Adrestian nobility shared a pride amongst themselves that often veered into arrogant machismo. It actually made sense, given their ancestral dominance over entire continent, but it was also irritating to deal with. I couldn't even count how many times I had witnessed it in my mercenary days.

So of course, it didn't surprise me at all when I observed the same attitude in the Black Eagle House. Edelgard always tried to project an outward appearance of no-nonsense pragmatism, but that was just a mask to conceal her self-inflated belief that she was above her rivals. I could tell from the beginning that she saw herself as the standard of strong, decisive leadership, and she certainly had an iron will, but she lacked Claude's adaptability and Dimitri's empathy. Her retainer Hubert took just as much pride in how ruthlessly effective and cutthroat he could be for his future empress. Ferdinand was so proud of his heritage he was practically an exaggeration. Caspar truly believed he could fight anyone. The normally indifferent Linhardt viewed most other cadets as dumber than him. Petra wasn't even a Fódlander, yet the Adrestian pride definitely bled over into her natural pride for Brigid. Even the common-born Dorothea was a prima donna, both literally and figuratively, who rather hypocritically indulged in all the same pretentious vanity as the nobility, despite disliking nobles in her own mind. That's why I could barely tolerate opera songstresses like her and Manuela, they had no self-awareness. Bernadetta was the only Black Eagle cadet officer with no sense of pride, but that was only because of her extreme, trauma-induced insecurity that made her a completely insignificant leader who just barely scraped by at the academy. The odd thing about it is that Hanneman certainly didn't foster that overall stuck-up attitude. He may have been an Adrestian noble himself, but he was too professional to let ego control him. Edelgard already controlled the class in that sense.

And if I'm being honest, I didn't find the Golden Deer to be particularly attractive either. Lorenz was so full of himself that he was worse than most Adrestian nobles, an accomplishment in and of itself. Hilda was such a chronic procrastinator that, as Claude once put it, "If you look up 'lazy' in the dictionary, her picture won't be there because she never got around to submitting it." It's a miracle she never flunked out of the academy. Lysithea was a prodigy magician, and one of the few able to control dark magic, but her talents were offset by her petty brattiness, fragile ego, and obsession with displaying maturity. Ignatz was very kind and intelligent but his combat skills were terrible. Raphael on the other hand was very skilled in combatives, at the cost of being heavily dull-witted. Marianne was a gifted white mage and surprisingly adept equestrian, but severely lacked self-confidence and command presence nearly as bad as Bernadetta. Claude, finally, had every quality an effective leader should have and was perhaps the sole force that held his house together, but I had issues with his rather obnoxious personality.

The popular myth that I was given the ability to choose which house to teach is ironic in hindsight, as I think I would have still led the Blue Lions if I had actually had a choice. I believe now that I naturally fit with the Blue Lions more than I did with the Golden Deer and especially more than Black Eagles, even though I myself was a born Adrestian who spoke Faerghian with a slight accent. Faerghian nobles often displayed no less vanity than Adrestians or Leicestermen, but they usually wren't nearly as arrogant as Adrestians. The very traditional culture of the Holy Kingdom heavily discouraged the sin of pride, or at least overtly and boastfully displaying it. The Lions were certainly more humble than their Adrestian peers, and even plenty of the Leicestermen, but I never saw that as one of their weaknesses. Dimitri and Ingrid may have been bullheaded, Sylvain may have been a philanderer, and Felix could certainly be arrogant in his honed sword skills, but neither they nor the other Lions were prideful enough to pretend to be anything they weren't. For all their faults, the Lions shared a determined, unpretentious focus that was a common attribute of Faerghians, even the two foreigners Dedue and Mercedes shared it. It came naturally to Dedue, as Duscurites traditionally shared many similar values with their neighbors, even if most Faerghians were unwilling to admit it. Mercedes by contrast was ironically an Adrestian noble by birth, Enbarr accent and all, but she was supremely humble by nature, in stark contrast to most of her people, and had long adopted Faerghian culture.

In time, their focus would push them through the darkest days of everything that was coming. I had no way of knowing that at the time, of course, but I was already beginning to recognize it's potential. I could only do what I thought was best to turn my students into killers.

"Hey, kid, care to join us for a drink?" Jeralt said as I approached the fire pit where he and the other brigade officers were gathered.

"Don't mind if I do."

I wasn't a hard drinker myself, rather uncommon for a mercenary, but a little ale by the campfires was always a healthy way to calm the nerves the night before battle. So I sat down and communed with the closest thing I had ever had to family.

"I wasn't expected that request you made," said Jeralt. "Especially since you were hesitant to have them on this mission to begin with."

"I was wrong," I said as I sipped my drinking horn. "I was being to protective of them, maybe I was too protective back in Remire."

"What changed your mind?"

"I had a conversation with Jeritza before we left. It made me realize that all the training in the world is useless to the cadets if they can't instinctively put it into action."

"As long as you're willing to take that risk," Jeralt said as he took a swig.

I rolled my eyes. "Oh, _please_, you're one to talk about risks," I said half jokingly. "I wasn't gonna say it in front of everyone else in the war council, but the attack plan is a high roll even by your standards."

"She's got a point, Boss," Nicholas added.

Jeralt just shrugged, he knew that we meant no disrespect. "I won't deny it. But the Seneschal ordered us to prosecute the Law of Macuil, and I tend to do exactly that." He took another swig. "Besides, like I've said so many times, the enemy will have a delayed response to what they don't expect."

"I hate it when you're right," I sighed.

The brigade officers and all traded glances, understanding the gravity of the situation. Saint Macuil's law had uses other than war, but specifically applied to enemy combatants, being ordered to 'prosecute the Law of Macuil' was essentially a euphemism for 'kill every last one.' Even though the Ministry of Religion superseded the Church of Seiros within the Adrestian Empire, the Church was still the only organization in Fódlan with the recognized authority to officially sanction that law.

"I suppose your cadets better be prepared for the bloodshed, Byleth," said Devon.

I inspected my horn as though I had never seen such a thing, I could only manage to say, "They better be."

"It'll be a shame not havin' you back with us, ma'am," said Ivar.

I glanced over at the salt-and-pepper haired man, who had been walking with a limp from the wound he received back in Remire.

The brigade's chain of command had been completely restructured. Erwin was the official leader of Omega Troop and Jeralt's executive officer. Ivar, Devon, and Nicholas were now company leaders. Devon commanded Alpha Company, the skirmishers, Ivar commanded Beta Company, the first of the heavy infantry units, and Nicholas was the leader of Zeta Company, the support unit composed of the archer company and mage platoon. Gamma and Delta Companies were led by two of our other veterans named Vasily and Beowulf who had not held leadership positions before.

Ivar really shouldn't have been there, however, as his leg had still not fully recovered from his wound. The proper procedure would have been to have his first platoon leader assume temporary command of Beta Company, but Jeralt claimed that he insisted on joining the mission to finish what we started in Remire. Ivar had been with Jeralt since the very beginning, so Jeralt simply couldn't bring himself to order him to stay at Garreg Mach.

"Y'know, you really shouldn't have come with that leg of yours," I said to him.

"I'll let it full heal after we've finished those bastards. We own that much to Pierre."

". . . yeah. . . you're right."

The image of Pierre's corpse flashed through my mind, his mail and gambeson split open at the chest by what had to have been multiple strikes from an axe. I knew that regardless of my decisions, the Blue Lions could all potentially suffer similar fates. Sothis was silent.

* * *

The brigade assembled long before dawn. Every platoon conducted a thorough pre-combat inspection; armor was donned, weapons were checked for dents and rust, horses and pegasi were saddled, the supply convoy was re-inventoried, officers took roll calls and briefed the plan to their men. But before any of the companies were fully assembled, the cadre assembled our cadets outside the barracks.

"Oh boy, it's happening. . . " a visibly nervous Annette said while fiddling with a buckle of her brigandine.

"Stay calm, Annie, we'll make it through," Mercedes gave her a small side hug for comfort.

"I'll give it my all," said Ashe.

"Just don't get separated from the formation," Felix said as he closed the cheek pieces of his steel helmet.

I had risen and garbed in full battle dress before everyone else and meticulously inspected each of the Lions as Hanneman and Manuela inspected their houses. Most every cadet wore their uniform gambesons as required, but their equipment varied beyond that.

Mercedes and Annette both wore their mage tunics and carried their mana staffs of spiraled birchwood. Though Annette also owned a small brigandine and carried a short battleaxe in her belt for personal defense. Ashe was dressed as a skirmisher with a leather jerkin and cervelliere. He had brought his longbow as a precaution but chose to carry his short spear and shield for the battle instead, he also had an axe in his belt as a sidearm. Felix was dressed similarly to me with a haubergeon, brigandine, and steel plates for his legs, shoulders, and forearms. His gauntlets were even spiked on the knuckles in case of an unarmed brawl. He kept his shield slung on his back as he carried his personal two-handed estoc, which was specifically meant to pierce mail and plates. I would have preferred he carried an arming-sword to allow for holding his shield, but based on his combatives skills, Felix was the only cadet that could be trusted with such a longsword. Dedue wore a Duscurite-style spangelhem on his head and a hauberk coat underneath a Duscurite oxhide jerkin that was branded above his heart with his clan insignia. His large round shield was also Duscurite, painted with the Molinaro clan insignia as well, and his weapon was a double-bearded pollaxe.

Dimitri, Sylvain, and Ingrid were the most heavily armored, even more than me, as befitting the three horsemen of the class. They each wore hauberks and most of the steel plates that they would have worn as mounted knights. Because they were fighting on foot, however, they smartly chose infantry boots instead of cavalry sabatons for easier movement. They also wore nasal helmets over mail coifs rather than the knight helms that would have tunneled their vision too much while on foot. They carried the same spears and triangular shields along with arming-swords as sidearms. I had tried to convince them that they could afford to dress lighter and still have plenty of protection with less bulk, since they weren't going to be in the saddle, but Dimitri was adamant that they condition themselves to plate armor as much as possible so that they could become as agile as seasoned knights, so I conceded.

"Listen up," I said to all of them, "the sprint across the saddle will be the most dangerous maneuver. We will no doubt be spotted and it's a narrow strip, so keep your heads down and your shields up. And stay in formation as much as practicable."

Situations like that were precisely why I had drilled them in sprinting up and down inclines while weighted by armor.

"I must admit, I'm _really _not looking forward to that part," Mercedes anxiously squeezed her staff.

Sylvain chuckled, "If only we could be mounted for that part."

"I wish I could ride with the valkyries for that part," Ingrid glanced over at the pegasus troopers, nicknamed 'valkyries' after the angels that took fallen warriors to Eden.

"To bad the terrain and ruins will do no favors for horses," I said. "And trust me, Ingrid, you'll actually be safer on the ground, especially if the enemy has longbows."

Just then, Dimitri was approached by none other than his two rival house leaders, which seemed to be an odd tradition for them.

Edelgard already had her pride back on display, dressed as an infantry officer of the Imperial Adrestian Army. She wore an officer's scarlet surcoat branded with the golden, double-headed Imperial Eagle. I could see the outline of a brigandine under the surcoat plus the mail sleeves of her haubergeon. She also had steel spaulders, vambraces, greaves, a mail coif, and a plumed kettle helmet. Her rectangular Adrestian shield was covered with scarlet linen emblazoned with House Hresvelg's golden Crest of Seiros. Unlike most Adrestian officers, she carried her personal Zoltan battleaxe in her belt as her primary weapon, rather than the traditional halberd or pollaxe, but still had an officer's short arming-sword as her sidearm.

Claude, on the other hand, was much less conspicuous in his battle dress. As appropriate for him, he favored practical efficiency over a display of might. He was the only cadet to not wear the uniform gambeson of the academy, instead wearing is longer personal gambeson that had thicker padding and jack chains sewn into the sleeves. He also had a brigandine over his gambeson, a barbute helmet strapped hit his belt, and his arrow bag slung over his shoulder. Something that briefly caught my attention, however, was the shamshir sheathed on his belt, another early indicator of his true heritage.

"No time for shit-talk you two," I deadpanned. "This isn't a game anymore."

"I'm not _that _shallow, Teach," said Claude.

"Nor am I," said Edelgard. "I just wanted to say. . . good luck, Dimitri." She spoke as if she were being coerced to say that.

"And I've gotta admit, I could've handled the situation better when we faced those assholes back in Remire, so give 'em Hell for me," Claude smiled.

"After today, the ones who survived won't even live to regret the day they attacked us," said Dimitri.

All three houses walked to the assembly area together to fall in with our respective elements. The sky was still dark and the sun would not come up for some time, and it was in the pre-dawn cold that the gravity of what was about to happen finally set in for the cadets.

"I can't believe we're not going with the flanking element!" Caspar whined.

"Not. Another. Word. Caspar," Edelgard said through gritted teeth.

"Have courage, friend," said Ferdinand. "We still have the honor of representing the pride of Adrestia!"

"I will be giving witness to Brigidine pride!" Said Petra, and she certainly looked the part of a Brigidine warrior with her clan face-paint, colorful linen tunic, and long dagger.

"Yeah, it's all just another way to die anyway," Linhardt deadpanned.

"_Please _don't talk about dying!" Bernadetta squeaked.

"Keep your chin held high, Bernie, I will be standing next to you!" Said Petra.

"Even if we die today, the Goddess will preserve our souls," Marianne said solemnly .

"Send some extra prayers our way," said Annette.

"If today is our last, there's nobody I'd rather die next to than you, Ingrid," said Sylvain.

"This is _not _the time for that, Sylvain," Ingrid scowled.

"I'm serious," he actually seemed offended.

"Lock it up, Lions, Alpha Company is right there," I said as I guided my house away from the flock to fall in with the skirmishers.

"Come back alive, guys!" Said Hilda.

"Save some fun for us!" Said Caspar.

"King of Lions!" Said Claude.

And so the Blue Lions reported to Devon's Alpha Company and fell into the first platoon's rear rank. I judged it necessary for my cadets be in the first formation of the flanking element to hit the enemy, but not the tip of the spear. Hanneman and Manuela took their houses to Beta Company in the suppression element. The cadets then learned the meaning of 'hurry up and wait' as the units around them all conducted their inspections and the student's nervousness turned into boredom as it happens to all soldiers before battle.

The black sky gradually morphed into gray as we finally marched out of Fort Epsilon in tactical columns with Shamir and Caeda's troopers carefully screening our movement. The pegasus riders of Rho Troop took particular care to conceal their flight through cloud-bounding as much as possible so that their silhouettes wouldn't be spotted against the dark sky. Our planned route was a winding series of jagged ridge-lines and concealed mountain paths that Shamir's 3rd Recon guided us through. Orderlies gave updates to the officers when we passed each checkpoint, though nobody spoke above a whisper. Noise discipline was enforced as strictly as practicable, less we create a raucous echo across the valleys and gorges that could alert the bandits from miles away.

The sky was fully gray when we reached the final checkpoint, where the the pegasus troopers confirmed the enemy's presence in Old Baldy's ruins, exactly where they were projected to be. The checkpoint was a natural crossroads of trails on the low end of a ridge-line that intersected with the cirque, and would serve as the staging area for the supply train as well as a casualty collection point. Everything past that demarcation was considered hostile territory. Jeralt called a final leader's huddle to ensure all officers would be synchronized as much as possible and the force split up into the flanking and suppression elements. Shamir ordered Alpha, Beta, and Gamma Troops to dismount, the security detail sent by the fort stayed behind at the checkpoint to guard the horses. Delta Troop remained mounted, their task was to ride around the cirque's crest to probe the northern ridge for enemy activity and block any reinforcements.

"This is it," I told the Lions. "There's no going back from here."

"Here we go. . . " said Mercedes.

Nobody said anything else, there were no more words to be spoken. I swept my gaze across the faces of my students. Dimitri had subtly converted into the silently stoic fighter I had seen him become in Remire. It was as though he was suppressing all hint of conflicting emotions and focusing his mind on the singular task; killing. His normally friendly and boyish eyes took on a feral gaze, almost like that of an apex predator that smelled blood. I could barely see Dedue's gaze through the eye-slots of his helmet, but he looked melancholy, like a man about to do unpleasant but necessary business. Felix was so impassive he almost seemed bored, but I knew that was just his way of focusing his mind. He eventually told me that he played out rehearsals and contingencies in his head before every battle. Sylvain seemed like a completely different person, his carefree philanderer attitude was replaced by that of a magistrate preparing to pass judgement. Ingrid's eyes showed just a hint of natural fear, but she still maintain her usual professional bearing, slowly breathing through her chest to channel the fear into aggression. Ashe was also trying to control his breathing in order to dilute the effects of fear. Mercedes and Annette were plainly the most nervous. Mercedes was more subdued about it, being the oldest of the class at twenty-three. Annette kept touching her axe handle like a lucky charm.

Jeralt's brigade standard-bearer then blasted the call to advance, reverberated by all the other signal horns, and the suppression element advanced forward in column straight up the ridge-line to the cirque's crest, and the bridge to Old Baldy. Shamir's dismounted troopers then formed column behind Devon's Alpha Company while Shamir herself stayed with her own Alpha Troop. The flanking element waited until Jeralt's group was roughly a hundred paces ahead of us. Then, on Shamir's order, our signal horns blasted advance up and down the column and we moved forward at double-step. There was no longer a need to conceal our presence and Jeralt's men rose up a war cry as they reached the cirque's crest and advanced on the bridge. We could see for ourselves that the enemy was fully alerted to our presence when our element reached the crest. I saw a scramble of movement on Old Baldy across the bridge, swarming out of the ruins like a kicked hornet's nest. Most of Caeda's Rho Troop were already flying straight overhead to the plateau, but some of them guided the flanking element from above as we peeled left on the cirque's ridge-line to reach our objective. Delta Troop rode ahead of us in tight wedge formation. The ridge was narrow and all formations remained compact. A potential ambush would thus be devastating. There were plenty of draws nestled right below the ridge's trail where bandits could spring a trap. The pegasus and horse troopers were our vanguard against such an attack.

Delta Troop hit just such an attack as they reached the saddle point. Over the noise of pounding boots and thundering hooves, I heard shouts, screams, and horse whinnies. Our pegasus escorts immediately dived like birds of prey. I saw a trooper tumble the side of the ridge, his screaming, thrashing horse came sliding down behind him. But the vanguard cavalry crushed the ambush almost as it began and the pegasus riders pulled up and turned away to rejoin Rho Troop, their task was accomplished. Delta Troop rode beyond the saddle point as they continued their combat patrol and Alpha Company came up to see the skirmish's aftermath. Dead bandits littered the path, some with javelins in their torsos and others cut open by longswords. One friendly horse was dead and it's rider limped back to our platoon's rear rank and fell in next to my cadets, one hand clutching his bloodied hip and the other clutching his bloodied javelin. Mercedes tried to create a _Heal_ glyph but the limping trooper waved her off.

The last recon cavalrymen to pass our objective dropped sashes behind them to mark the highest crossing point for the saddle, it had previously been marked on our maps. Devon's horns sent the call for reassembly down the column. I could see Jeralt's element clashing with the bandits on the bridge. Their battle was essentially a massive shoving match as Jeralt's men pushed and stabbed against the hostiles in order to clear the bridge. The element's mage section generated natural lighting from the heavy clouds to terrorize the bandits and break up formations, taking care not to bring the lighting too close to ur own men. Rho Troop began to spread out and circle the sky above the plateau, creating a crowd-control formation called the 'buzzard's circle'. Warlocks tried to cut them down from of the sky with wind spells, but they were too wild and unfocused to be accurate. The valkyries easily curved their pegasi around the bright blades of wind-powered mana. While in the ranks of Delta Company, the Black Eagles and Golden Deer would get nowhere close to the fray. But my Blue Lions were about to charge headlong into it and I took the brief opportunity to check everyone.

"Remember the hill sprints!" I said. "Let gravity do half of the work and then run like hell to the other side! Keep your breath other contro-"

I was interrupted by a sudden _boom _and the entire platoon was tossed into disarray as bright threads of lightning bolted up from the ground around us. I stumbled and fell from the disorientation, hearing screams and shouts all around me through the ringing in my ears.

_'Shit!'_

We had been hit with a natural lightning spell.

_'Quickly! Keep your cadets together!' _Said Sothis.

I grabbed my spear and pushed myself off the ground.

_"Cadets! Talk to me!"_

"Where alive!" Sylvain shouted, he was already back on his feet and visually confirmed that nobody in the class had died.

Everyone had been partially disoriented, but Dimitri, Dedue, and Sylvain acted quickly to pull everyone up. Mercedes and Annette were guarded from direct harm by their mana protection, but the enemy's spell had shaken Mercedes and utterly terrified a trembling Annette.

_"Get your shit together, Dominic!" _I roughly shook her. _"We need you in this fight!"_

_"What the fuck was that?!" _Felix yelled on impulse.

"Warlocks!" I said.

The platoon was now a chaotic gaggle and our advance across the saddle was attrited. I heard multiple soldiers shout that Devon was dead.

_'Fuck! Not now!' "Mercedes! With me!"_

I pulled her with me as I pushed through the gaggle to the front rank. The air above our heads crackled with electricity as our mage sections waged the magic duel with the enemy. Invisible mana trails were broken apart, re-harnessed, then again and again.

I grabbed a soldier and yelled, _"Where the fuck is Devon?!" _

He pointed to a body that was half incinerated. A lightning bolt had instantly killed him. Mercedes shot me a horrified look, knowing there was nothing she could do.

Somebody yelled, _"Arrows!" _

A barrage of arrows hit the edge of the ridge-line, killing half a dozen men. I looked across the saddle to see bandits lined up at the edge of the plateau. And I saw the flashes of mana glyphs.

_'Oh, shit.'_

I heard signal horns blasting the call for advance, meaning that Shamir was indirectly telling us to move our asses.

_"Platoon leader!" _I yelled.

"Right here!" A man pushed himself out from under a dead comrade.

"They're about to hit us again! We have to move!"

"We're not gonna make it with those bastards trained on us!"

"Those warlocks will overpower our fields!" Mercedes said on the verge of panic.

_"There's no fucking option!" _I yelled. _"We go over the saddle or die! Sound advance, now!"_

"Professor, what's happening?!" Dimitri shouted as he ran up to me.

"Your Highness! Stay ba-"

Several small bolts wildly struck close to the edge. I instinctively ducked. I looked up, saw more arrows falling, and raised my shield to protect my head. An arrow ricocheted off the rim. I realized the warlocks were using wing magic to propel the missiles, a technique that was only semi-reliable. But then I heard the fully panicked voice of Mercedes.

_"Professor! Professor!" _

She grabbed my shoulder and I looked behind me to see Dimitri slumping over next to her. An arrow was sticking out of his mail-clad neck. I felt my blood run cold. Sothis gasped inside my head.

_**"Dimitri!"** _Ingrid screamed in anguish as she rushed to him.

The signal horns blasted advance. No one moved. The Prince violently thrashed on the ground, clutching his neck, hacking up blood. Mercedes tried to generate a _Heal _glyph over her wand with shaking hands. But I knew it wouldn't work in time. Frothed blood covered his mouth, more blood squirted from his neck where the arrow had severed the vessel. His coughing and thrashing died down within heartbeats. Through the shouting, spells, and horn blasts, I barely heard his last strangled breath leaving his throat.

Dimitri's voice echoed in my head, 'With_ you on our side, Professor. . . I do not fear death.'_

Jeritza's voice, _'They can only learn it from combat. And Killing.'_

Jeralt's voice,_ 'As long as you're willing to take that risk.'_

Then the world went quite as I stared at Dimitri's corpse.

"No. . . no-no-no. _**No!**_"

A sudden wave of energy burned through my body like fire in my bones. And time itself froze.

* * *

For the first time since I had met her, Sothis looked at me with genuine concern.

"Byleth?"

"Turn back time."

"What? But-"

_"Turn back time! Now!"_

"But. . . the flames are awakening in your body! I don't know what it will do to you!"

**_"I don't care, damnit!"_**

**_"Byleth! You don't know if you can can save him!"_**

**_"Turn back time!"_**


End file.
